The name's Winchester
by cdonoher13
Summary: Harry finds out he's the son of Dean Winchester. Will he be able to survive the family business.
1. Chapter 1

The names Winchester

Didn't follow the timeline because I wanted to add characters that were killed off didn't realize until too about late about the prophecy

hope you enjoy the story anyway

Disclaimer: Do not own supernatural or Harry Potter

chapter 1

_Carry on my wayward son_

_There'll be peace when you are done_

_Lay your weary head to rest_

_Don't you cry no more_

_(Kansas)_

Harry rolled out of bed and felt the stinging pain from his back. The beating last night wasn't by far the worst he had gotten. However, he thought that his wrist might be fractured. It hurt to move it as he held it, trying not to rotate it, wincing at the pain. With his belly rumbling from not eating much the last couple of days. Harry went over to the loose floorboard in his room pulling it up, reaching inside taking out a small box of cookies. They were a bit stale but they were better then nothing. Harry took a bite of one. He heard the locks on the outside being opened. Placing the cookies back and replacing the board, Harry stood up on shaking legs. The door opened and a meaty face stuck itself inside.

"Well, boy, are you going to just sleep all day while we starve?" Vernon Dursley said in low growling voice.

Harry limped past the large man as quickly as possable.

"Don't you give me that look boy," Vernon said grabbing Harry by the hair and shoving him forward.

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Dean fired the sawed off spraying rock salt at the spirit, making it dissipate.

"Come on Sammy, burn the damn thing already," Dean grumbled under his breath.

"Dean, behind you!" another shot rang out sending the spirit up in a cloud of smoke.

"Thanks, dad."

John Winchester made no reply instead laying out a circle of salt around himself and his son.

The spirt appeared again charging forward at the father and son duo. It stopped suddenly and let out a scream as fire suddenly engulfed it. John and Dean looked at one another dropping thier shotguns to thier sides and breathing a sigh of relief.

The father and son leaned against John's truck as the Impala pulled up and Sam got out.

"Took your sweet time, Sammy," Dean said eyeing his brother.

Sam ignored his older brother's sarcasism turning to thier father, "you guys o.k., dad?"

"We'll live," John said putting away his shotgun, "I don't know about you boys, but I can use a shower."

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"I want this house spic and span by the time we get back, is that understood, boy?" Petunia growled eyeing Harry with distaste.

"Yes, Aunt Petunia," Harry said not looking up.

"You heard what your Aunt said," Vernon growled putting on his coat watching his wife and son leave out the front door. He suddenly spun around grabbing Harry by the hair and putting his face in Harry's.

"If this isn't to your Aunt's liking when we get back I'll make you sorry you were ever born, you freaky little bastard," shoving the boy away and turning to walk out door.

Harry watched his Uncle walk out the door, "bloody fat pig," he mumbled under his breath. As soon as he heard the car pull away he climbed the stairs to his room and let Hedwig out, opening up the back doors. He smiled, seeing his snowy white owl flying free in the sky. He sighed turning around going back into the house to start on his chores.

Harry was dusting and polishing the night stand in his Aunt and Uncle's room when he noticed a small book lying on the bed. Harry picked it up and noticed it was a diary. He looked at the door then looked back at the diary. Swallowing down his fear he opened it. Quickly, he noticed it didn't have too many entries and the dates were far and inbetween. The last date was yesterday,s. Harry sat down on the bed and staired at the older ones. Coming to an entry dating before he was born.

Feb. 17, 2002

_My freaky whore of a sister has just admitted to me that she's pregnant with another man's child. I have a half a mind to tell James but, knowing that fool he'd forgive her. She told me she had met an American at a bar (of all places) called Harville's Roadhouse somewhere in Central Nabraska. He got her drunk and took advantage of her, most likely. His name's Dean Winchester. I'm a bit surprised she even got a name._

Harry dropped the diary on the floor stairing out into space. James was not his real father. He shook his head in disbelief not wanting to believe what he had just read picking up the diary and he read it several times over. The thought of having more family was overwhelming.

He ran to his room grabbing his backpack putting what little bit of clothes he owned in it. He then went over to the loose board and pulled it up reaching inside, he pulled out his wand and his broomstick (shrunken down) as well as an envolpe with money. Putting his wand in his back pocket, and placing the money and broom in his bag. Running down the stairs and out the back door. Looking up he saw Hedwig flying towards him. Harry put out his arm letting the owl land on it.

"I'm going to meet my real father, in America girl, try to follow me when you can," Hedwig cocked her head to the side and hooted.

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"Dad's definitely enjoying that movie," Dean said sarcasitly.

John Winchester snored in his lazy-boy while a John Wayne movie played on the t.v. Sam grinned not looking away from his computer screen.

"What do you expect, dad's getting on in years."

"Ya, I guess so," Dean shrugged running a cleaning rod through his shotgun.

"I may be getting on in years but I'm not deaf," John said turning his head away from his sons.

Dean and Sam grinned at each other. The Men-of-Letters bunker never felt so homey. The three Winchesters had bought a fifty-inch flat-screen and a couch. Dean insisted on a lazy-boy recliner for thier dad. John had refused it at first, saying that he wasn't that old yet. However, they got it for him anyway. The first time John had fallen asleep on it, in front of the t.v. his sons couldn't stop teasing asking if he was ready for the old folks home. John mearly grinned taking his sons teasing like a good sport.

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Harry walked into the Roadhouse and looked around, several of the hunters eyed the young boy. Harry walked past them not making eye contact and sat down on one of the stools.

"Well hello there, can I help you?" Ellen asked leaning on the counter smiling down at him.

Harry smiled back at the older woman, not feeling at all intimidated or frightened from her. Unlike most of the people he had met since coming to this country.

"Maybe you can help him find the door?" one of the hunters growled giving Harry a look of annoyance.

"Maybe you can find the door, Eric, this is my bar and I will decide who comes and goes," Ellen said as a matter of fact. The hunter, Eric, went back to his beer making no more objections.

"Now, with that out of the way, what can I do for you sweety?"

"I'm looking for someone ma'am," Harry eyed the man that spoke up earlier not knowing if he was listening in. Ellen noticed the look.

"Don't worry about him, hun, he's harmless, so who you looking for maybe I know them," Ellen finished seeing several bruises on his arm. She pretended not to notice.

"Well... his name is Dean Winchester and I think he might be my father," Harry said with a bit of hesitation.

Ellen didn't bat an eye but inside her stomach did a flip. "I know a couple of guys who know him, I could give them a call if you want?"

"You would, thank you very much, ma'am!"

"Now that's enough of that ma'am stuff, the names Ellen," she went over to the soda fountain and poured Harry a drink putting a shot of holy water into it. Ellen handed Harry the drink. "On the house."

"No, I can't do that, Ellen," he said reaching into his pocket pulling out a couple of dollar bills. "I'm not a begger, thank you very much."

Ellen was impressed as she watched Harry place the dollar bills on the counter. He took a sip of the soda and when he had no reaction to the holy water Ellen relaxed a little.

"I'll be right back, hun, I'll give those friends a call," Ellen went in the back pulling out her cell phone dialing Dean's number.

"What?" a gruff voice came over the phone.

"Dean, this is Ellen I need you to come over to the Roadhouse as soon as you can."

"I'm a little busy right now, Ellen."

"It's important," stressing her words.

"Alright, give us a few hours, we're almost done here."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

"That's not fair," Harry chuckled as Joe playfully elbowed him causing him to miss the shot.

"All's fair in love and war, squirt," Joe grinned taking her shot, sinking the 9 ball.

"Hate to interrupt your good time there, but I could use some help over here," Ellen said smiling at the pair.

"Boss is calling, gotta get back to work," Joe put her pool cue back on the rack.

"Do you need any help?" Harry asked putting his own cue away.

"Sure how about you empty the ash trays," Joe handed him a plastic garbage bag.

Harry went to each table picking up the ash trays dumping the contents into the bag. It was almost closing time and most off the hunters had already left. Harry looked up as two tall men walked through the door. Ellen approached them talking in hushed tones. Harry felt his body go into flight mode and fought it down. He didn't believe Ellen, or Joe for that matter would let anyone hurt him, so he relaxed a bit but didn't take his eyes off the two men.

"Harry, come over here sweety," Ellen motioned for the boy to come over to her and the taller man. The shorter one walked over to the bar and sat down on one of the stools, but never took his eyes off of Harry.

"This is a friend of mine, Sam, he might be able to help you find your daddy," Ellen left the two alone taking the garbage bag from him.

"Why don't we have a seat," Sam said motioning towards one of the booths. Harry followed the giant of a man, sitting down across from him.

"Do you know where I might find my father, sir."

Sam grinned at the britsh accent. "Tell me something Harry, why do you think Dean Winchester could be your father?"

"Well... you see, I found an entry in my Aunt's jounal, it said that my mum met my real father here and it gave his name," Harry said not really knowing how else to explain it to Sam.

"Where did you come from exactly, if you don't mind me asking and wouldn't your Aunt miss you when she notices that your gone?"

Harry looked down at the table. "No, niether her nor my Uncle will notice and I'm from Surrey."

Sam sat back taking the kid in the best he could, as far as Sam knew Surrey was somewhere in England. Could this little kid really have traveled so far just in hopes of meeting his real father. It put a lump in his throat just thinking about it. Sam shook his head clear and went back to the matter at hand. Sighing he looked Harry square in the eye.

"I'd like you to take a few tests for me, if that's o.k. by you."

"What sort of tests," Harry asked getting into his flight mode again backing away a bit.

"It's nothing that can hurt you, I promise," Sam said reassuring the young boy.

"All right, I guess so."

Sam pulled out a silver flask and unscreawed the cap.

"Just take a drink of this."

Harry backed away instinctively and Sam noticed the boys reaction.

"Don't worry it's just water, see," Sam said taking a drink from the flask. He handed it over to Harry who took a drink. When Harry showed no reaction to the holy water Sam smiled taking back the flask. Next Sam pulled out a solid silver knife. Harry rapped his hand around an empty beer bottle. Sam smiled, "the kid's got spunk, maybe he is a Winchester after all," he thought to himself.

"Just need you to touch the blade, that's all, I promise," he said trying to ease the boy. Sam decided not to try to get Harry to let go of the bottle, if it made him feel safer then that was fine by him.

Harry touched the silver blade, when his skin didn't burn Sam was finally satisfied.

"Are we done yet, with the tests I mean, because this is kind of creepy."

Sam laughed, "O.K., do you have a picture of your mom by any chance, maybe me or my buddy over there would remember her." Sam pointed a thumb towards Dean, who sat at the bar eyeing the two of them.

Harry rummaged through his bag and found the muggle photo of his parents. Before coming to the U.S. he made a stop at Diagon Alley and found a photo expert that could make a copy of magic photos in muggle photos. He looked at the photo still finding it kind of strange not seeing his parents moving. Harry handed over the photo to Sam.

"Thanks, I'll be right back O.K.?" Harry nodded and watched as Sam walked over to the other man sitting at the bar.

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"So, what do you think?" Dean asked eyeing the small boy from across the room.

"Well, he's not possessed, neither is he a shapeshifter, werewolf, nor a skinwalker," Sam said handing his brother the photo.

"What's this?"

"It's a photo of the kid's parents, I figured maybe if you saw his mom you would recognize her."

"The kid's like what, nine maybe ten, you really expect me to remember some chick that I met that long ago?" Dean grumbled snatching the photo from Sam. Dean looked at the photo of the little family, focusing on the red headed woman. He instintly recognized her and Sam saw it in his brother's face.

"Umm...Lily, if I remember right, I remember she had this hot britsh accent and gorgeous green eyes and this body..." Dean's grin faded as he saw his brother, Ellen and Joe stairing at him.

"So, do you think it's possible?" Sam asked.

Dean shook his head, "I really don't know Sammy, I mean did you find out the kid's age, I met Lily around twelve maybe thirteen years ago that kid doesn't look any older then nine or ten."

"Well, lets go find out," Sam said motioning his older brother towards the table Harry sat at.

Harry looked up as the two men approached. The shorter one held his parents photo and Harry wondered why.

"Hi, kid, umm... Harry right," Dean asked, Harry nodded in response. "How old are, Harry?"

"I'm twelve almost thirteen."

Dean looked back down at the photo and cringed. The age was just about right, "What was your mom's name?"

"Lily," Harry responded slowly getting to his feet. A serge of feelings began to coarse through him and Harry pushed the feelings deep into his gut not wanting to get his own hopes up.

Dean grabbed a chair, needing to sit down, he felt light headed and the situation felt unreal. He was a father, he had a son? The question burned in him like a hot knife.

"Are you... are you Dean Winchester, are you my father?"

Dean looked away from the photo into green eyes, those same green eyes that he remembered looking into so long ago.

"I guess I am," he sighed running his hand through his short cropped hair.

Without warning Harry suddenly wrapped his arms around Dean's neck burying his face in his new found father's shoulder. Dean was taken aback, not quite knowning what to do, he looked at Sam for support and Sam looked away wiping a tear from his eye and swallowing a lump in his throat. Feeling the boys arms around him, Dean raised his own slowly, embracing the little boy that held onto him. A smile came to his lips and he pulled Harry into a tighter hug, running his hands through his son's hair.

Harry pulled away smiling, tears streaming down his face. "I can't believe I really found you, I can't believe that this is really happening," Harry exclaimed excitedly.

"Hey, the feeling's mutual,... um, Harry,"

"My father," Harry whispered, making Dean blush a little.

"Well, if that makes you happy, I guess you'll like this, the jolly green giant over there's your Uncle and you got a grandfather at home that I'm sure's going to love meeting you."

Harry's smile grew bigger (if that was possible) at the thought of having more family then he had originally anticipated. Sam crouched down to look his nephew in the eye, looking the boy up and down Sam smiled worriedly at how thin Harry was and how his clothes seemed to be ten times too big.

"I gotta ask, what's with the clown cloths?"

"Do they freak you out Sammy?" Dean grinned at his younger brother.

"There sort of, hand me downs," Harry said feeling suddenly ashamed. Sam, being able to read his nephew's thoughts took him by the hand. Harry winced and pulled back his arm craddling his wrist with his left hand.

"Take it easy, Sammy," Dean said raising his voice a little.

Sam opened his mouth to protest when Harry spoke up, "I fell off my skateboard, not long ago and hurt my wrist, it's alright Sam... Uncle Sam didn't do anything."

Both brothers looked at one another, knowing a lie when they heard one.

"Harry, let me see your wrist, I promise I won't hurt you," Sam said giving his reassuring brown eyed puppy dog look. Harry exstended his arm letting Sam gently take his wrist.

"Try to bend it back a little," he said still looking at his nephew's thin wrist. Harry did as Sam asked wincing at the pain. "O.K. that's good," Sam said smiling messing up Harry's already unruly looking hair, making the boy grin disspite the pain.

"Well, what's the verdict, doc," Dean asked watching his brother and son.

"I'm not sure, but, my guess is that it's fractured or at least sprained really bad."

Dean looked over at his new son, "Harry why didn't your Aunt or Uncle take you to the hospital when this happened?"

"I didn't tell them about, I didn't want to bother them," he said a little too quickly.

The brothers exchanged looks, not liking what they heard.

"So, what were those tests for?" Harry asked looking from Dean to Sam.

"Harry, what do you know about the supernatural?" Sam asked.

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"No damnit," Dean growled trying to keep his voice down so that he didn't wakeup Harry in the backseat.

"Dean, just hear me out, O.K.," Sam pleaded with his older brother.

Dean sighed stubbornly, "I just don't want him thinking that I don't want him, Sammy, I mean he crossed the Pacific Ocean to meet me."

"It's the Atlantic Ocean, Central Atlantic to be exact," Sam said getting annoyed.

"Whatever dude, you know what I mean."

"Look Dean, we have to take him to see Doc. Richards in the morning anyway, for his wrist, so why not have him do a D.N.A. test?" Sam saw Dean grinding his teeth, but contuned anyway. "It's not that I don't think Harry's your son, because I do, he looks alot like you when you were that age and he's deffiantly got dad's mop top, I'm just worried that his Aunt and Uncle might come looking for him."

"I hope they do," Dean said in a dangerous tone of voice, thinking about the bruises that Ellen said she saw on his son's arm and the possible fractured wrist. He looked in the rearview mirror at Harry sleeping in the backseat. Sam had found an old wrist splint in the back of the Impala that one of them must have used at some time or another, truth was neither could remember all the injuries they had sustained over the years from hunting.

"Dean, we need to think realisticly about this, if the D.N.A. test proves...,"

"When, not if," Dean said getting angry at his younger brother.

"Fine, **WHEN** the D.N.A. test shows that your Harry's biological father then we can get ahold of a lawyer and you can adopt him legally. That way no one can take him away."

"Alright, but your going to explain it to him."

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Harry looked at the menu not quite knowing what to order, he wasn't picky by any means, being used to cooking for the Durseys and getting whatever scraps that were left.

"Anything catch your eye, hun?" the waitress asked smiling down at him.

"Maybe just a glass of orange juice would be alright."

"He'll have the blueberry pancakes with a side bacon," Dean said taking the menu from Harry and handing it over to the waitress.

The waitress wrote down the order, taking the menus she walked away. Dean eyed her, admiring the way her hips swayed as she walked.

"Bet you could bounce a nickle off of that...," Dean trailed off as Sam gave him the stink eye and motioned his head towards Harry.

Harry laughed at the brothers antics, "I'm twelve Uncle Sam, not two, I know about the birds and the bees."

"That doesn't mean you have to learn about smut and porn from your dad," Sam said still eyeing Dean.

"Don't pay attention to the prude, Harry, what'd you think of her?" Dean asked elbowing his son playfully.

Harry rolled his eyes, "She's old to me, dad."

Sam laughed out loud and Dean had to grin, not just at what Harry had to say about the waitress, but the fact that Harry had been calling him "dad" since they left Doc. Richards.

Doc. Richards was a full time doctor and part time hunter. When the Winchesters or most other hunters needed some medical care that they couldn't handle, they went to him. Doc. Richards was more then happy to do the D.N.A. test for Dean. He asked him if John had been told about his new grandson yet. When Dean told him "no" the doctor shook his head laughing saying that the oldest Winchester was going to have a heart attack when he found out. He explained that it would take twelve to seventy two hours for the test resolts and that he would call Dean as soon as he got them.

The Winchester's food was laid on the table, they all dug in with enthusiasm. Dean would glance over at Harry now and again making sure his son was eating. Harry noticed the diffrence in menu items that his father and Uncle chose. Wil his Uncle Sam chose a vegi omlet with a fruit cup on the side, his father on the other hand picked the biscuits and gravy with bacon on the side with an extra side of sausage.

"That good, son?" Dean asked watching Harry shoveling the pancakes in his mouth.

"I haven't eaten in a while," Harry said blushing slowing down a bit.

"Looks like you haven't eaten in weeks," Sam said taking a fork full of his omlet.

"Here why don't you take these," Dean said pushing his plate of sausages over towards his son.

"Are you sure you don't want them?" Harry asked eyeing the links.

"Ya, I'm sure."

Harry dug into the sausages with a "thank you" to his father."Sausages always remind me of school breakfast," Harry said absently.

"They served breakfast at your school?" Sam asked looking over.

"What kind of school serves breakfast?" Dean asked.

"I goto a boarding school, or at least I did," Harry said looking down at his pancakes.

"Did something happen that you can't go back?" Sam looked a bit worried at his nephew, thinking that he might have gotten kicked out for some reason.

"Well... I came here to find dad."

The two older Winchesters looked at each other in confussion.

"Harry, why would coming to find me have anything to do with you not going back school?"

"Well... I wasn't sure if you would be O.K. with it, the school's in Scottland."

"Wow, you goto a boarding school in Scottland?" Sam exclaimed excitly. "What sort of school is it?"

"It's a special school for gifted children," Harry explained not wanting to tell them what Hogworts really was.

"Special school?" Dean questioned. "Like egghead special or need to wear a helmet special," Dean smiled at his own clever remark.

Both his younger brother and his son rolled thier eyes ignoring him. Dean just went back to his breakfast.

"Well, I don't have a problem with you going back to school if that's what makes you happy, Harry," Dean said digging back into his biscuits and gravy.

"You would really let me go back?"

"Sure, after all I'm sure you got friends and stuff there, it wouldn't be right of me to take all that away from you, the only thing I ask is that you call or write at least once a week," Dean finished not looking up from his food.

Sam watched as his nephew's face glowed with happiness and excitment. Harry could hardly believe what he was hearing.

"Thank you, I don't know what to say, thank you so very much, dad." Harry leaned over and hugged Dean.

Sam smiled and nodded his approval to his brother, knowing Dean had done the right thing by his son.

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"So why are we cloths shopping, I've got cloths," Harry protested.

"Look, your not going to meet your grandfather for the first time looking like you just mugged a circus clown, besides your too good looking to be dressed in those rags," Dean said fingering Harry's shirt. He blushed at his father's comment.

"So where do you want to start?" Sam asked looking down at his nephew.

"I don't know, I've never been cloths shopping before," Dean sighed, looking sadly down at his son.

"Tell you what, son, how about Sammy and I lead the way."

Harry shrugged, "sounds good to me."

By the time the threesome left the mall Harry was carrying two bags of choths, as well as Sam carrying two boxes of shoes. Dean brought up the rear carrying a winter coat as well as a leather jacket that he insisted on byeing for Harry.

After a quick change of cloths at a rest stop Harry walked out of the stall wearing some of his new cloths carrying his old ones in a bundle. Dean gave a whistle, "told ya he was a knock out." Harry blushed stuffing his old cloths and shoes in his backpack. Dean walked over taking the old bag from his son and handing him his leather jacket.

"You want to keep anything in here, get it out now," Harry put his jacket on and reached inside the bag pulling out his wand, shrunkin down broom, and the envolope of money.

"So what's with the stick?" Sam asked stairing at Harry's wand.

"It's a momento from my, mum," Harry lied to his Uncle.

Sam shrugged the lie off for now, maybe when they got to know each other better he would learn to confide in his family.

"You sure that's all you want out of there?" Dean asked eyeing his son.

"Ya, there's nothing else that means anything to me."

Harry followed Sam and his father towards the Impala's trunk. Dean rooted around in the hidden compartment pulling out a small can of lighter fluid. Placing the bag on the ground and pouring the ligher fluid over it he handed Harry a pack of matches.

"Light'er up, son."

Harry struck the matches throwing them on the backpack. It went up in flames instintly and he looked at his new family.

"To new beginnings," Dean said turning his son around heading back towards the Impala.

Harry looked back at the burning bag smiling, "to new beginnings," he whispered.

"Harry, get in the damn car!" Dean yelled making him jump out of his thoughts.

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The three of them pulled up to the bunker a little after dark. Harry sat forward in the backseat stairing at the large door opening up to the underground garage. The Impala slowly pulled into a parking spot and Dean cut the engine off. The trio got out and took thier bags out of the trunk. Descending down to the main level of the bunker they opened the door to the library.

"So what was so important that you had to stop at the Roadhouse?" John asked looking up at his sons.

"We picked you up a little present, hope you like it," Dean said sarcasticly moving over to reveal Harry.

John staired at Harry and then at each one of his sons in turn with a confused look on his face waiting for an explanation.

"This is Harry, he's my son," Dean explained.

John stood up and walked over to his new grandson, crouching down to look the boy in the eye. A smile broke out on his face as he staired at Harry. John reached out putting a hand on the back of the boy's head, pulling him into a tight hug. At first Harry didn't know how to react to the oldest Winchester, he never had a grandfather before, but as he felt the warmth of the embrace he laid his head on John's chest and smiled feeling truely safe for the first time in his life.

John pulled Harry back taking stock of the boy, looking him up and down. He noticed how thin he was and then saw the splint on his wrist. Anger suddenly welled up in the old hunter, standing up his gaze went staight to Dean.

"What happened to his wrist," John demanded pointing at Harry's wrist.

Dean opened his mouth to explain when Harry chimed in, "I fell off my skateboard and hurt it, dad and Uncle Sam already took me to see a doctor."

Satisfied with the answer John looked over at Sam, "Why don't you show your nephew to his room and help him get settled in." Sam nodded leading Harry away.

As soon as the two were out of ear shot Dean turned angrily on his father, "you really think that I would do something like that, to my own son."

"I'm sorry son, I over reacted," John said sitting back down and motioning for Dean to take the seat across from him.

Dean didn't respond and sat down still a bit angry from the unsaid accusation that his father had made.

Sighing John looked over at his oldest, "so your a father now, alots going to change and your going to have to change with it, wheather you like it or not."

Dean deflated, leaning back in his seat, he staired down at the table, "I'm not sure what kind of father I can be to Harry."

"Your a good man, Dean and good big brother, you practically raised Sam when I was hunting, I think your going to be a fine father."

"Thanks, dad, that means alot coming from you," Dean said looking up meeting his father's gaze.

"So, what really happened to his wrist?" John asked.

"I think his Aunt and Uncle that he lived with abused him, Ellen said she saw bruises on his arms, he's pretty closed up and tight lipped about himself, I'm not really sure how to handle this, dad," Dean said running his hand through his hair.

John looked thoughtful at his son as Sam approched the table sitting down next Dean.

"He's out like light," Sam said, "so what did I miss?"

"Your brother dosen't think that he's going to be a good father," John said looking from Sam to Dean.

"Are you kidding me, Dean, you'll be an excellent dad," Sam said clapping his older brother on the shoulder. "Besides you got me and dad to help you out."

"That's good to know, Sammy, I could use all the help that I can get."

Later that night Harry woke up from a nightmare, sweating and looking around for the meaty face of his Uncle Vernon. He relaxed when he realized where he was at, untangling himself from his sheets he got out of bed and opened the bedroom door. He poked his head out looking left and right before entering the hallway. Wandering around the bunker he found the library where his Uncle sat typing on a laptop. Sam saw him and smiled motioning Harry to join him at the table.

"You O.K., you're all sweaty, did you have a nightmare?" Sam asked putting a hand on his nephew's shoulder.

"I'm alright," Harry shrugged.

Sam sighed, looking at him, "come on, lets get you cleaned up."

After a wiping the sweat off of him and a change of cloths, the two of them were back in the library.

"So what are you looking for, on the computer I mean," Harry stood up leaning on his Uncle's shoulder as he took in the computer screen.

"Well, I'm looking for our next hunt."

"How do you know when you got one, a hunt?"

"Well, we look for strange stories, mostly unsolved crimes, sometimes even urban legends," Sam said glancing over at Harry.

"Like stories of haunted houses," it was more of a question then a statement.

"Ya, that's right," Sam smiled at the boy's inquisitive nature.

"Why, do you think hauntings happen?" he inquired to his Uncle.

Sam wrapped his arm around Harry pulling the young boy closer to him, his nephew didn't restist the small embrace.

"Well, in my experince most feel they have unfinished buisness, while others are angry, maybe feeling that they didn't get a fair chance in life, still others are just plain crazy," explained Sam.

"Do you think there are good ghosts that help people?"

Sam smiled at the innocent question, "Harry, let me tell you about what happened when we discovered your grandmother's spirit was still haunting the old house that your dad and I lived in."


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Dean and Harry were under the hood of the Impala, showing his son how to do a tune up on the now forty-seven year old car. Harry couldn't quite understand his father's obsession with the old muscle car, but it was fun spending time with him. Dean was telling him embarrassing stories about his Uncle growing up, like how when he was fifteen he had a five foot long strip of toilet paper stuck to his shoe and walked around the local mall until some girls his age told him about it. Harry had laughed making Dean grin, enjoying his son's light, airy laughter. Dean's phone rang and he pulled it out looking at the caller I.D., it was Doc. Richards, glancing over at Harry, he answered it.

"Hey, what's up doc.," Dean grinned and Harry shook his head.

"How are doing, Dean?" Doc. Richards said ingnoring Deans joke.

"Not too bad, doc," Dean hated small talk and Doc. Richards knew it so he decided to get to the point.

"Well, I got the resolts of the D.N.A. test back and I have some good news for you."

Dean smiled looking over at Harry, "could you hold on a minute doc., I'd like to get the rest of the family so they can hear this?"

"Sure," the doctor said smiling on the other line.

Dean motioned for Harry to follow him down the stairs and as they entered the library they saw Sam sitting in front of his laptop.

"Where's, dad?" Dean asked excited.

"In the living room," Sam said looking confused at his older brother.

"Go get your grandpa," Harry ran to the living room returning with the oldest Winchester in tow.

"This better be good," John said, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.

Dean ingnored his father's grouchy protest, putting his cell phone on speaker and setting it down on the table.

"Sorry to keep you waiting doc., your on speaker."

"Well, congradulations Dean, your a father," a cheer went up from the now four Winchesters.

"Umm, Dean?" Doc. Richards questioned through the speaker.

"O.K., lower the volume a little bit, boys," John announced raising his hand in the air.

"Please take me off speaker, Dean, I need to talk to you privately," Dean looked at the phone in confussion, looking up, he saw his father nod his approval.

Picking up the phone he took it off of speaker, placing it to his ear, Dean walked to his room to speak with the doctor.

"Are you alone?" Doc. Richards asked.

"Ya, I'm alone," he said, with a bad feeling in his gut.

"I'm going to start with the fractured wrist, I'm pretty sure you already know that he didn't get it from falling off his skateboard."

"Ya, that was an easy one," Dean quietly said running his hand through his hair.

"It was twisted by someone strong, an adult most likly, seeing that, I took the librity of taking a few more x-rays, arms, legs, ribs and head, they were free of charge by the way."

Dean closed his eyes swiping a hand down his face, sighing, "what did you find, Doc.?"

"He has pins in his right knee as well as his left elbow, they're pretty old, I'd say the ones in his knee he got when he was around five maybe six, as for the ones in his elbow I'd say eight maybe nine years old."

Dean's heart sank to his stomach, he sat down on the edge of his bed putting his hand over his eyes fighting back the tears.

"You still there, Dean?" Doc. Richards inquired.

"Still here, Doc.," he said pulling himself out of his thoughts.

"He's sustained multiple fractures on four of his ribs, they've healed up, so there's nothing to worry about," sighing the doctor continued. "That's not to mention the overlapping scars and bruises, plus the malnutrition, that I'm sure you know about, Dean, that little boy has been brutized for most of his life, I'm sorry to say this but, I'm surprised he survived, your son is very tough, if that's any consulation."

The tears began to come, falling from Dean's eyes as the information about his son started to sink in.

"I have a lawyer friend that works in London, I've already gave him the heads up about you wanting to adopt Harry, he's a hunter and a father himself, he'll get those bastards to relinquish guardianship of him one way or another, let me give you his number."

Dean took down the number and thanked Doc. Richards, hanging up on the man. He sat on his bed, emotions, way too many emotions then he was use to experincing all at once. Anger, fear, saddness, it all welled up inside the hunter threating to explode. He needed to tell someone about what he just found out, needed to let it out before it ate him alive.

Walking into the library, he saw his little family laughing and carrying on, joking with one another happily. Harry looked over at his father smiling brightly, Dean had to grin disspite the situation. How his son could still find the strength to trust and love other people was beyond him, he would have lost that abilty long ago.

"Dean, is there something wrong?" Sam asked reading his older brother's expression.

Dean sighed, pulling out a chair sitting next his son and running his hand through the thick mess of hair, "Harry, son, we need to have a talk."

Harry lay in his bed, exhausted both physically and emotionally. When his father had confronted him about the abuse, he automatically denied it. When his family told him that it was alright to tell them about it, that it wasn't his fault and he had nothing to be ashamed of. Harry finally broke down telling them everything. Through sobs and tears, he told a horror story that was his life, before finding out about his real father and running away to meet him. Tired and feeling exsposed Harry allowed his father to carry him to his bed to rest and think about what had just happened. The secrets that he had always kept, even from his best friends, were now out in the open. His Uncle explained to him that this was the beginning of a healing process, he hoped his Uncle was right.

Getting out of bed he walked out of his room and headed towards the kitchen, he noticed the light was on within and opened the door slowly peeking his head inside.

John looked up from a case file that he was going over, with a cup of coffee next to it, "You just going to stand there gawking or are coming in?"

Harry walked in sitting across from his grandfather.

"Couldn't sleep?" John questioned his grandson, noticing the dark circles under his eyes.

Harry nodded his head not looking up at his grandfather, "you have trouble sleeping, too?"

"No, just old habits die hard, from being on the road hunting all the time," John explained taking a sip of his coffee.

"What are you reading, grandpa?" he asked trying to change the subject, his father had gotten on him about at least making an effort at getting a good night's sleep.

"It's a case that I think we need to look into, haunted crematorium, several people have gotten hurt inside over the years,mostly teenagers looking for a quick thrill," not feeling the need to sugar coat it, John continued, "over the coarse of the last forty years, since it closed down, there's been three deaths, two missing persons, and one that ended up in a phych ward."

John pushed the file towards Harry, surprised, the boy pulled it closer and began reading the file. It was filled with newspaper clippings and Xerox copies along with photos of the victims. He read through some of the articles and looked at some of the photos.

"So, how do we get rid of the spirits?" Harry asked looking up.

"Usually we salt and burn the remains."

"But, grandpa, it's a crematorium, they burn the bodies there," he said looking at the old hunter confused.

"True, but there could be items that have sentimental value to them when they were alive that are still there, keeping the spirits bound to the crematorium," John explained, getting up to refill his coffee cup.

Harry sat wondering why sentimental items would be doing at a crematorium, when it suddenly dawn on him, "are you talking about... stealing from the dead?"

"That's about the gist of it, I'm not talking about a rings or necklesses either," taking a sip of his coffee, giving his grandson a stern look, "more like gold or silver teeth, which counts as remains."

Harry gagged at the thought making his grandfather laugh, "that's just gross."

John looked at him with a content smile on his face, "you like ice cream?"

Dean walked into the kitchen to find his father and son going through a carton of chocolate ice cream and a tub of cool whip. Harry turned, giving his father a guilty look.

"Are you serious dad, it's two in the morning," Dean said with annoyance indicating the sweets on the table.

John mearly scooped up more ice cream with his spoon, glancing over at his oldest, "grandpa's rights," he said winking over at Harry. Trying to hide a smile Harry stuffed another spoonful in his mouth.

"Fine, but your cleaning up the mess," Dean said turning around smiling.

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"So what we need to do is find any items or remains and burn them right," Harry nervously blurted out looking over at his father.

"Harry, will you please relax, just breath son, o.k., we're still a couple of hours from the crematorium," Dean said keeping his eyes on the dark road following his father and brother in the black truck.

"That's easy for you to say, you've been on what, a million of these," Harry said leaning into the seat.

"Trust me, son, I still get nervous everytime I go on a hunt, I guess that's part of the thrill of it," he grinned, watching Harry stair out the window, then turning back to the road.

"How old were you when you did this for the first time, dad?"

"Well, I did my first salt and burn when I was about ten, but my first real hunt wasn't until I was sixteen, put a silver tipped arrow right through a werewolf," Dean grinned at the memory.

"I don't know if I can do that, salt and burn, putting a spirit at rest is one thing, but to kill something," Harry thought for a moment, "I don't know if I can."

"Sometimes, son, doing the right thing isn't easy," Harry looked over at his father not quite understanding his words, but taking them to heart.

"Do you agree with taking Harry with us, dad," Sam asked looking over at John as they traveled, the oldest hunter's truck leading the way.

"It's not my call, Sammy," John said not taking his eyes off the road.

"Well, I don't, this could turn out to be more then a simple salt and burn, Harry could get hurt," Sam announced turning around to see the Impala following at a disstance.

"It's not your call either, son," he said quietly.

Sighing, Sam staired out the windshield of his father's truck, still a bit angry with the situation. The two brothers had had an argument about bringing his nephew along on the hunt, Sam didn't want him involed in the family buisiness. Hearing that he went to a boarding school for gifted children made Sam a little more protective over the boy. Unfortunately, for Sam their father had interjected, telling him that it was not his place to tell Dean how to raise his own son. Besides, Harry did want to go along to see what the family buisiness was all about.

Pulling up to the crematorium, the four Winchesters got out, flashlights flickered on as they started to gather supplies from the two vehicles. Harry admired his grandfather's set up, everything had a place and everything was in it's place. A simple push of a button retracted a weapons catch in the bed of the truck, where a large foam block held a variety of weapons that were easily excessable. His dad's was more of a jumbled mess of knives, guns, stakes and lots of other types of weapons thrown into a hidden compartment in the trunk. Looking between the two, Harry decided then and there, that if he started to hunt on his own which set up he wanted.

The wind shifted and the Winchesters found themselves down wind to a horrible stench. While the three older hunters covered their nose and mouths, Harry doubled over vomiting.

"Harry, you o.k.?" Dean yelled running over to the boy.

John came over, handing Dean a bandana for his grandson.

"Merlin's beard," Harry exclaimed placing the bandanna his father gave him over his nose, "what is that?"

"Swamp gas," Sam said looking over at the crematorium. "Looks like the place was built right next to one."

"You o.k., son?" Dean asked helping him straighten up, "kind of smells like your Uncle Sammy after he's eaten a burrito."

"Man, I'm never going to Taco Bell with you, Uncle Sam."

Sam grinned at his nephew, "keep it up, shrimp, you'll be riding home with me and that'll be our first stop."

"If you boys are done screwing around, we got work to do," John said handing Harry a small sawed off .410 gauge double barreled shotgun and a bandoleer full of rock salt shells.

The four hunters, well three and half hunters headed towards the crematorium, seeing the doors chained with a lock. Dean put down the duffle bag, opening it up pulling out a large pair of bolt cutters and handing them over to Sam.

"Do the honors, Sammy," Dean said stepping away from the door.

Harry watched as his Uncle Sam cut the lock in one quick snip. Removing the chain and opening up the door, Dean took point with Harry next, keeping the boy between himself and his father. Sam took up the rear, closing the doors behind them.

Walking behind his father, shotgun in hand, Harry jumped at every little noise as the foursome crept through the hallway.

"So where do we start?" Dean asked looking over at his father.

"Well, there's got to be an office around here, let's start there," John said.

In the office the four Winchesters searched for clues, going through a couple of desks they found nothing more then some scrap paper and dead bugs. Dean found a dead rat and called Harry over, throwing the dead rat at him making his son jump back, letting out a screech, startling the other two hunters.

"That wasn't funny, dad," Harry quivered kicking at the dead rodent.

"Stop screwing around, Dean," Sam chastised his older brother, John mearly shook his head at his son's prank.

"What are we looking for anyway?" Harry asked.

"Not really sure, Hair-ball," John answered.

"How about a floor safe?" Harry asked climbing over some rubble, shinning his flashlight on the floor.

"Nice work, son," Dean said picking him up off the collapsed wall and setting him down on the more solid floor.

Sam and Dean began removing the debris from the top of the floor safe.

"Do you think it has what we're looking for, grandpa?" Harry asked walking around the office restlessly.

"Only one way to find," John answered as his two son's finished removing the rest of the callapsed wall.

Dusting off his hands Dean took his flashlight out of his jacket pocket shinning it on the safe, "Harry, stay where we can see you." When the boy didn't answer, Dean began shinning the light around the darkened room," Harry?" he yelled louder, getting worried, "Harry, this isn't funny, answer me."

The trio of hunters began calling the boy's name searching around. Dean began to panic, searching frantically around the room, yelling his son's name louder each time. Sam grabbed Dean by the shoulders turning his older brother towards himself.

"Dean, calm down, we'll find him, but you need to stay focused, o.k.?" Sam took out his cell phone scrolling down to Harry's number dialing it, the phone went to voicemail and Sam hung the phone up.

"Your right, Sammy," Dean said taking a deep breath and trying to focus.

"Sam, you get that safe open while me and your brother keep looking around," John said opening up the office door and motioning for Dean to follow. "We'll find him, son, don't worry," John said placing a hand on his shoulder, reassuring him, Dean nodded in response.

Harry wokeup outside on a small island, deep in the swamp, a tree leaned at the edge of the water, pulling the bandanna out of his back pocket covering his nose and mouth from the swamp gas. Pulling out the Zippo lighter his grandfather entrusted to him, telling him to always make sure it was filled, he saw something matallic lying on the ground, picking it up it was his flashlight. Turning it on and closing the lighter, Harry flashed the beam of light at his surroundings, a pang of fear welled up inside of him.

"Dad, Uncle Sam, grandpa," he called out in the dark, swallowing back his fear and closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, he calmed himself. Opening his eyes once again he shinned the flashlight around slowly, trying to focus on something. Suddenly he spotted something laying on the edge of the swamp. Slowly he approached it, kneeling down to get a better look. He pulled out a pocket knife that his father had given him, flicking out the blade he used it to probe the object. As he did so, he realized that it was a human skull.

"Merlin's beard," he exclaimed, shinning the light farther into the swamp noticing more skeletal remains.

"Harry, answer me son," Dean yelled.

"Daddy?" a small quiet voice came out of the darkness, alerting Dean.

"Harry, is that you?" Dean questioned heading towards the sound.

"Daddy?" the voice came again.

Dean tried the door that the voice came from behind, pounding on it. John came running over shotgun raised.

"Dean, did you find him?"

"Daddy?" the voice said again, "I'm scared and don't know where I am."

"Harry, get away from the door, I'm going to break it down," Dean yelled through the door.

"What's going on?" Sam interjected coming down the hall.

Dean backed away from the door and using a mule kick, the door splintered at the jam breaking the lock and practically knocking the door off the hinges. The three Winchesters scanned the room with their flashlights, shotguns raised. Sam's beam stopped on a small figure curled up in one of the corners of the room.

"Harry, thank god, are you alright?" Dean asked striding forward towards his son.

John suddenly grabbed Dean by the shoulder pulling him back.

"Dad, what the hell," he said angerly.

"That's not Harry, son," John said quietly, not taking his eyes off the boy in the corner.

"Daddy, I'm so cold," the boy said standing up walking towards them. Suddenly the boy opened his mouth and started letting out a high pitched scream charging at the three hunters. John fired his shotgun dissipating the ghost.

Harry looked at the bones he had collected, there were more bones out in the swamp then the boy could count. Sighing, not knowing where to go from here, he decided to build a fire hoping that his family might see it, when suddenly he remembered the cell phone in his jacket pocket. Not used to carrying one he could have kicked himself for not remembering about it before. Pulling it out he pushed the button on the side to turn it on, when nothing happened he pushed it again holding it down a little longer, still nothing happened.

"Son of a bitch," Harry quoted his father's favorite line, putting the phone back in his pocket. He began cutting small branches off of the old tree, hoping that he could build at least a small fire that would attract attention. When he heard a voice coming from swamp.

"Over here," the voice whispered.

"Who's there," he said looking towards the voice, holding his knife out in front of him and searching with his flashlight.

"Over here," the voice whispered again.

Swallowing his fear Harry slowly walked towards the voice, he heard what sounded like creaking by the water's edge. Getting closer to the noise, he saw what it was, a boat, thanking Merlin for his luck he grabbed the back of the boat pulling up onto the small island. Inspecting it with his flashlight it had some water inside but he didn't see any holes at the bottom. Pushing the small boat over to drain it out, he grimaced at the smell of the putrid water. Pushing it back into the water he realized there was no paddle.

"Great hunter I am," he whispered to himself walking over to the tree grabbing onto the largest branch he could reach and putting all his weight on it, snapping a good chunk of it off. Pushing the boat off into the water, Harry hoped that he was heading in the right direction.

About a half an hour of paddling, Harry shinned the light around the gas filled swamp, shaking his head, "bloody hell, how far out am I?"

Suddenly, he heard that same disembodied voice, whisper, "over here," looking about himself, Harry saw a dim light shinnig in the dark, "over here," it said again.

"I don't know what you are, but I sure as the hell hope your taking me to my family," the boy wispered at the light, as he paddled towards it, it moved away as if leading him on.

"Harry!?" Dean yelled out into the swamp, not finding the youngest Winchester anywhere in the crematoium (only a few more ghosts) the three of them went outside towards the swamp. By the edge they found Harry's shotgun, but no sign of him anywhere, making Deans heart sink.

Running his hand through his hair Dean tried his cell phone again, getting Harry's voicemail.

"Harry!?" John and Sam yelled out into the swamp. The three Winchesters were beginning to lose hope of ever finding him

"We need to get a boat out here, he's got to be somewhere in the swamp," John said, the oldest hunter staired out into the dark murky water, thinking about how small his grandson was, all alone somewhere out there. Running his hand down his face, fighting against dispair, John started to turn towards his sons, when he saw a light coming from the swamp.

"Boys!" he yelled at his sons pointing into the swamp, both brothers looked where their father pointed, seeing a light in the blackness.

"Harry!" Sam and Dean yelled out at the same time.

"Dad, Uncle Sam, grandpa!" they all heard the shouting, Dean swiped at the tears that came to his eyes quickly before anyone noticed.

As the small boat came closer to the edge of the swamp, Sam and John grabbed at the front of the craft pulling it onto shore. Harry started to get out, laughing happily at seeing his family once again. Dean no longer could hold himself back, picking his son up out of the boat, he hugged him tightly, tears streaming down his face.

"My god I thought we lost you."

"Dad, I can't breath," Harry gasped out, making the other two Winchesters laugh in relief.

"Sorry," Dean said putting him down on his feet. John and Sam had waited long enough to greet the youngest member of the family. Grabbing him ruffling his hair and patting him on the back, his Uncle and grandfather greeted him as he smiled happily.

"Harry, what happened, where were you?" Dean asked crouching down taking his son by the shoulders.

"I don't know what happened, dad, one minute I was in the room with all of you the next I was on an island in the middle of the swamp," Harry explained.

Harry told them about waking up on the Island, the disembodied voice, the skeletal remains and the ball of light that led him back to them. The three older Winchesters looked around at each other.

"Helpful spirit," Sam shrugged not having any other answer.

"What about the remains in the swamp?" Harry asked looking at his Uncle.

"Probably dumped there by the owners, cheaper then burning them," John explained.

"So was there anything in the safe, Uncle Sam?"

"Just dust."

"So how do we get rid of the spirits?" Harry asked.

"We don't, we get them revenge," Sam said.

As the four Winchesters piled into their vehicles and pulled away, a figure came out of the tree line stairing intently as the hunters left.

"Don't worry,pup, I'll always be there to protect you," turning into his ambiguous form, a black dog, he turned and padded off.

"I don't get it, what are we going to do again?" Harry asked looking at his grandfather as they drove down the road.

"Your dad and your Uncle are going to grab a friend of ours, a psychic, as for us we're going to find a motel and get some rest," Harry sat back in his grandfather's truck sighing.

"Then what?" John looked over at Harry shaking his head he'd forgotten what it was like to have a twelve year old with him.

"Then we summon the spirit of Brian Lem," John said seeing a motel and pulling into the parking lot.

"What go is that going to do?" Harry asked as John pulled up to the office.

Sighing and getting out of the truck John looked over at his grandson, "give me the chance to check us in Hair-ball, then I'll tell you all about it, o.k.?"

"O.K. grandpa."

John layed down on the bed while Harry took a shower, it had been a long night for the oldest Winchester. He had explained the plain to his grandson the best he could, they were going to have start training him if he was going to come along on these hunts.

"Man, that felt good," Harry said coming out of the shower, "so when are we soppose..." Harry trailed off hearing his grandfather snoring loudly. Seeing him sleeping Harry smiled, laying down next to the old hunter he put his head on his shoulder closing his eyes falling asleep, feeling safe.

Back at the crematoium John and Harry waited for the other two Winchesters, having spent the day getting his grandson a cell phone and almost getting arrested. John had told the cell phone dealer that Harry's cell wasn't working. The man told him that Harry probably got it wet and they couldn't replace it. Angrily John had thrown the phone at the man behind the counter saying that the damn thing almost got his grandson killed, Harry got inbetween them and pulled his grandfather out of there before they called the cops. Eventually they had found another store and bought Harry a new one. Hearing the Impala's growl as Dean and Sam pulled up they exited John's truck.

Sam took Missouri Moseley's hand helping the pychic out of the back of the car, thanking him for being a gentleman she smiled when she saw John and Harry.

"John Winchester," she exclaimed hugging him, looking down she saw Harry and smiled brightly. "You must be Harry, Deans little boy."

"Yes, ma'am," he said looking up at her.

"Ooo, polite and good looking, I like that, not like your father, he was a goofy looking kid ," taking Harry under the chin she began to get a sympethic look on her face. "Oh, honey I'm sorry about your parents and you did the right thing by yourself coming to find your daddy," she leaned in closer to whisper in his ear, "I think you should tell your family about your secret, they'll understand, especially your granddaddy."

Harry looked at the woman in shock, barely believing what he had just heard, "thank you, for the advice, ma'am."

"Well, lets do this," she said straightening up.

Dean walked over to Missouri handing her a ring, "do I want to know where you got this from."

"Probaly not," Dean answered scratching the back of his head.

Walking towards the swamp the group formed a circle, holding hands, "I invoke, conjure and command you appear unto me within this circle, I invoke, conjure and command you appear unto me within this circle," as Missouri spoke the summoning ritual a light began to glow in the middle of the circle. Soon the spirit of Brian Lem appeared and as he looked around his face begain to twist in fear. Lights began to emanate from the swamp, glowing brighter at each second of the clock. Suddenly each in turn began slamming into the spirit of Brian Lem, dozens upon dozens making the bombarded spirit scream in pain. As the last of the spirits slammed into him an explosion erupted sending white light everywhere and then it was dark again.

"It's over, the spirits are at rest now," Missouri said looking around at the hunters.

Back at the motel Harry sat on the couch freshly showered, stairing at the t.v. but not really watching. John sat down next to his grandson after a hot shower and looked at his face, he could tell that the boy was in deep thought.

"Something on your mind?" John asked eyeing him.

"Can you keep a secret, grandpa?"

"If you mean keeping secrets from your dad, I'm not willing to do that, me keeping secrets from your dad and Uncle almost tore us apart at one time."

"If I promise to tell him, will you promise to keep it secret between me and you," Harry gave his grandfather a puppy dog look that John couldn't resist.

"Alright, but you need to start trusting your dad a little more," John said sighing.

"I do, grandpa, but right now I need to find a way to tell him, thats all."

"So whats this secret of yours?"

"What do you know about wizards?"

"Well I know that they're a secertive bunch, their magic is natural, they're born with it rather then getting it from demon deals," John said not batting an eye at his grandson's question.

Not expecting that kind of an answer, but realizing that Missouri was right Harry relaxed, "Your a mystery, grandpa."

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The four Winchesters were out celebrating Harry's official adaption at the local restarant. The lawyer had pushed it through as fast as he could and had no problems getting the Dursey to sign over custody

"How come we never eat at home?" Harry asked finishing up his desert.

"We do," Dean answered.

"No we don't you make burgers and we eat ice cream or pie, I'm talking about a real meal."

"Dude, do we look like we can cook?" giving his son an incredible look.

"I can, if you guys are willing to take me to grocery store, I can pick up the ingredients?" Harry saw the looks on his family's face at the prospect of having a home cooked meal.

"Where did you learn to cook from?" Sam asked.

"I use to have to cook for the Dursey's," Harry said with shrug.

The three older Winchesters exchanged glances.

"In that case we can deal without, my son is not going to slave over a hot stove for anyone," Sam and John nodded in agreement.

"I like cooking," Harry said, "besides, I'm getting tired of restarant and fast food, I don't mind it when we're on the road, but when we're home I'd rather make something."

Walking out of the restarant heading towards the Impala, Dean spotted something on his car.

"What the hell is that?" Dean staired at what appeared to be a large bird perched on his beloved car.

"Looks like some kind of owl," Sam inquired.

At the mention of an owl Harry rushed forward, "Hedwig," he cried putting out his arm for the bird to perch on instead of his father's car. Sam and Dean staired at each other in bewilderment.

"Where did that bird come from?" Dean asked checking to make sure she hadn't scratched the paint.

"I let her out before I left England and told her to follow when she could," saying absent mindedly petting the white owl.

"Harry, your telling us that that owl flew all all the way from England, that impossable," Sam stairing at his nephew petting Hedwig.

Harry suddenly realized what he had reveiled, sighing and looking towards his grandfather for help, John walked forward placing a hand on his grandson's shoulder.

"I think your going to have to come clean, Hair-ball."

Back at the bunker the Winchesters discussed what they had just found out. Harry sat with his head down stairing at the table.

"So my son's a wizard, and what the bird's your familiar?" Dean asked trying to wrap his head around what he was just told.

"No, she's my pet and my friend," Harry explained not looking up.

"Dean, he's not the same as the witches we hunt, his magic dosen't come from demons, it' natural, like Missouri's psychic abilities," John explained.

"Harry, why didn't you tell us this before?" Sam asked.

"I thought that if I told you, you wouldn't want me," he quietly told his family.

John looked over at his oldest son and saw the distraught look on his face, realizing what his Aunt and Uncle had done to him.

"Harry, is that why the Dursey's abused you?" Sam asked coming around the table and crouching down to put a hand on his nephew's shoulder, Harry nodded his head slowly.

Dean ran a hand through his hair turning around, pacing back and forth angrly, thinking about what those bastards had done to his son.

Harry looked towards his father frightened, "are you angry with me?" he asked.

Dean stopped pacing, sighing he sat down next to Harry, "I'm not mad at you, Harry, I'm mad because the Dursey's made you so affraid, that you would be rejected by your own father for being something special." Sighing again Dean ran a hand through his son's hair, "I'm not going to pretend that I understand this, because I don't, but your my son and I wouldn't reject for any reason, o.k.?"

Harry nodded, "I guess since that's out in the open, maybe I should tell you how my mum and step-dad died and about the prophecy."

"So what your telling us is that if you go back to that warthog school your expected to lead some army, because some guy is threating ?" Dean asked pinching the bridge of his nose.

"It's my destiny and it's hogwarts, dad."

"I don't care if it's your destiny or not, your not going back," Dean said excitedly.

"Dad, you already said I could go back."

"That was before I knew that some wand waving phyco was after you!" Dean yelled waving his arms in the air.

Harry deflatted sitting back in his chair, looking towards his grandfather for more help, with this arguement.

"Harry, I agree with your dad, it's too dangous for you to go back," Sam said leaning back in his chair.

"Oh, but real safe for me to go hunting?"

"At least you have us there to look after you," Sam argued.

"Oh, great job looking after me in the swamp," Harry said angrily folding his arms.

Sam looked at his nephew frustrated, Dean became angry at his son's disrespect.

"You apologize to your Uncle right now!" Dean yelled waving his finger at Harry, making him sink back in his seat.

"Dean, that's enough," John said getting up.

"No dad, did you hear the way he talked to Sam?" he said looking over at the oldest Winchester.

"I heard and yes, he does owe his Uncle an apology, but you need to understand that your son is not an expensive piece of china to be wrapped up and protected from the outside world." John sighed, "I'm not saying that I like the idea of him going anywhere near that psyco, Voltamore, but maybe if we can prepare him, train him in everything we know between that and learning magic at that school he can defend himself without us there to hold hand."

Dean cast his eyes down in thought, considering his father's words. Sighing he looked up again at his son, "what do you think, Harry, will you let us train you?"

"Yes, if it means I can go back to school and I'm sorry Uncle Sam, it wasn't your fault what happened to me at the swamp, it wasn't anyone's fault, it just happened."

"It's o.k. shrimp, no harm done," Sam said smiling at him.

"So, what kind of training do you have planned for me?" Harry asked looking around.

"Defensive mostly, running, small arms, hand to hand, we'll each take turns training you and you have to keep up with your training even at school, deal?" Dean asked extending his hand, Harry stood up and shook it. Dean yanked Harry towards him in a hug running his hand through his thick black hair, sighing, he hoped he was doing the right thing.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

The alarm clock went off at 5am, Harry reached over and shut it off with a grunt. Throwing his blanket off of himself, he got out of bed.

"You got fifteen minutes to get ready, shrimp or I'm getting the hose," Sam said sticking his head in the door.

"We don't have a hose, Uncle Sam," he said scratching the back of his head.

"Then I'll use a bucket," Sam threated raising his eyebrows.

"O.K., o.k., I'm up."

Outside Sam was waiting with his arms folded across his chest, "first, lets start with some stretches."

Sam showed Harry several different stretches, the boy could be athletic with the proper excercise he thought looking over at his nephew. The two began running, Harry did good for the first quater of a mile and then started to tire out. Sam told him not to try to keep up, just run at his own pace. After a two mile run he sent Harry to see his grandfather down in the shooting range.

"Morning," John said looking his grandson over, "you ready?"

"As ready as I'll ever be," Harry shrugged.

"O.K., lets start," John said motioning his grandson towards one of the booths in the shooting range. "We'll start with your stance, feet shoulder width apart dominant foot forward, good, now without the gun, finger off the trigger until your ready to shoot, good, o.k. lets try it with the real thing, once you get use to the training I'll leave out different caliber guns and a box of ammunition for each, I expect you to use it all up."

"Yes, sir."

"Good, now lets start with the .22 caliber," John showed Harry how to load the small semi-auto and where the safty was stressing how important it was to always make sure it was on and never to point the gun at anything that he didn't intend to shoot.

Harry fired his first shot, the recoil surprised him and John told him to get back into stance. Finishing off the clip, John had him go to the next one in line, til he had tried all five of the handguns, the last one beening a 9mm.

John explained to him the best way to adjust his aim, "I didn't expect you to do perfectly, but you didn't do too bad," he smiled clapping his grandson on the shoulder.

Harry smiled back, "thanks, grandpa."

"Now, get a light breakfast and meet your dad for hand-to-hand combat training."

Harry walked into the training room, seeing thick pads on the walls and floors with a wooden target set up in the back. Standing in the middle was his father, bare chested, with only a pair of sweat pants and a pair of padded fingerless gloves.

"Take off your shoes and sweatshirt, then put these on," Dean said throwing a smaller pair of gloves to Harry. He did as his father told him, gulping down his fear he stepped onto the mats. "Alright, now what I'm going to teach you is not going to help you beat up Rocky,"

"Who's Rocky?"

"Nevermind, what I am going to teach you is how to defend yourself, quick moves that will destract your opponent so you can get away to safty, understand?"

"Yes, sir."

After showing Harry several blocks, grabs and shoves, teaching him to knock his opponent off balance and get away. Dean walked over to one of the benches and picked up a small forearm strap with three throwing knives in it.

"These are solid silver, I expect you to wear these at all times even at school."

"But dad...," Harry trailed off.

"Especially, at school," Dean emphasized.

"Yes, sir."

"Now the best way not to get caught in a hand-to-hand confrontation, especially with something that's faster and stronger then yourself is to take it out from a disstance. They'll be times when your not able to carry a gun, that's where these come in," Dean pulled out one of the knives and expertly threw it at the target. He began teaching Harry how to hold them properly. Then how to throw them, sticking them deeply into the wooden target. When they were done training Dean told him to hit the showers and meet his Uncle Sam in the library.

Seeing his Uncle typing on the computer, Harry entered, " so you ready to hit the books?" Sam asked.

"So what are you going to teach me?"

"What I'm going to teach you, mini-Dean, is how to trap, repel, and kill mosters and spirits, first lets start with vampires and werewolves those are the most common mosters we run into, what do know about them?" Sam asked.

"Well, vampires suck blood, they can be repeled by garlic and you kill them by driving a stake through their heart, as for a werewolf they change into a man-beast at the full moon and as for killing them silver I guess it doesn't matter wheather it's a bullet or a silver tipped arrow," Harry said in questioning manner.

"Is that a question or an answer?" Sam said giving his nephew a stern look.

"Answer," Harry nodded his head.

"O.K., well you got a few things right, there's tons of lore on both, unfortunately most of it's crap, while drinking blood is real the only way to take out a vampire is decapitaion."

Harry's eyes went wide and round, "I don't know if I can do that, Uncle Sam?"

"What I'm teaching you, you may never use, but you need this knowledge to survive," he explained.

"Alright."

"The things that we do know for a fact, is that they have retactable teeth that decend when they attack, they are immortal so they don't age and sunlight causes them pain but doesn't kill, more like a nasty sunburn, you following me so far?" When Harry nodded his head Sam continued, "they live in nests that have anywhere from eight to ten members, great way to incompacitate them is to use dead man's blood, it works like a poison and like I said before the best way to kill them is decapitation."

"So what happens when you get bit, what I mean is do turn into one of them?"

"No, you have to ingest the blood," Sam explained.

"Why are all these monsters so bloody gross?"

"Watch the laungage," Sam chastised his nephew.

Harry sighed, "yes,sir."

"Alright, next is werewolves they do change but not like you see in the movies,they grow claws and teeth, have super heightened senses, super strenth, super speed and only have one thing that can kill them, silver to the heart."

The two younger Winchesters spent another hour speaking about other different monsters until Harry's head felt like it was swiming.

"I didn't realize that there were so many different kinds of things that want to eat me out there," Harry said shaking his head.

"Well, I'm about ready for lunch, how about you?" Sam said closing the books that were set out on the table.

"O.K., give me say, a half an hour, I'm cooking, no arguments," Harry said heading towards the kichen.

After awhile good smells came from kichen, bringing the three older Winchesters sniffing towards the kichen one by one.

"Are you guys ready for lunch?" Harry asked, when his family shrugged and nodded their heads, he served them up. For him and his uncle he made chicken salads and for his father and grandfather a couple of chicken sandwitches with bacon and side of fries, they grinned hearing Harry call them chips.

After the best lunch the older Winchesters have had in along time, John told Dean and Sam they had dish duty, since Harry cooked.

"Ready for the last part of your daily routine," John asked.

"Sure thing, grandpa," Harry said following him out of the room into the library.

"Have a seat," John motioned towards the seat next to himself, Harry did as he was told. His grandfather placed a 9mm handgun in front of him and began teaching him how to break it down. If Harry got stuck at any point, John would patiently explain it to him, allowing his grandson to do it on his own. When Harry had completed breaking it down, John showed him how to clean it properly. After all was said and done, Harry reassembled the 9mm and putting it back on safety, placed it down on the table.

"That wasn't too bad," Harry said, watching his grandfather get up.

"Glad to hear that," John said bringing over a bag of guns and plopping them down on the floor next to Harry. To John's surprise his grandson didn't make any protest he just dug right into his work.

That night Harry had never slept so soundly in his young life.

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After a couple of weeks of training the family of hunters decided to go on another hunt, this time heading towards Michigan's U.P. in search of a wendigo.

"So several campers went missing, remains have been found eaten to the bone, says here that park rangers believe it could just be bears, why do you think it could be a wendigo?" Harry asked sitting in the Impala next to his father reading through a file, like the last hunt they followed his grandfather's truck.

"We don't, not for sure, that's why we're going to check it out."

Harry's phone rang, answering it, he listened for a minute to his uncle, "Umm, here it is Marissa Turken, says that she's institutionalized, umm, Kalamazoo Psychiatric Center, o.k. I'll tell dad."

"So what's going on," Dean asked not used to getting information from Sam third party.

"Uncle Sam and grandpa are heading to talk to a survivor, they said that they'll meet us at the motel."

Harry had texted his uncle the name and address of the motel he and his father were staying at. Laying on one of the beds stairing up at the ceilling he thought about how his life had changed since finding out James was not his real father. Finding out two years ago that he was a wizard was wierd enough, but to find out his real father was a supernatural hunter was crazy.

Dean walked in with a bag of burgers, the smell nauseated him, "got some grub, Harry."

"I'm not hungry right now, dad," he said.

"Yes you are, I got you a salad and fries, umm, chips," Dean said grinning.

Harry laughed, getting up, hearing his father using British terms was the funniest thing that the youngest Winchester had ever heard. After eating Dean taught Harry how to build a mini-flamethrower.

"Lets go over what you know about wendigos," Dean waited.

"Well, their almost perfect hunters, most weapons are useless that's why we're making mini-flamethrowers because they can only be killed by burning them, they can imitate the human voices that they've heard, um, oh, they can be warded off by drawing Anasazi symbols drawn in a circle."

"May make you into a hunter after all," Dean suddenly realized what he had just said and sighed watching his son finishing up the mini-flamethrower. "You know Harry you don't have to become a hunter or even come on these hunts with us, I'll understand if you don't want to."

Harry stopped and looked up at his father, "I like going along, I admit this is only my second hunt but, being with family that's what's important to me."

"That's good, son, family's the most important thing to a Winchester, I just want you to know you don't have to become a hunter, I'll be proud of you no matter what you decide to do with your life, o.k.," Dean replyed.

By early morning John and Sam had arrived with confirmation from the victom, as far as they could tell from her description, well nondescribtion, she said it moved so fast that she never got a look at it, it sounded like a wendigo to them. Allowing his father and brother to get some sleep, he decided to take his son out and show him how to use the mini-flamethrowers. After getting some much needed rest, the four Wnchesters began getting ready for the hike, grabbing their gear.

"Is this first time you been in the woods, Harry?" Sam asked watching his nephew adjusting his backpack.

"No, I've had to serve detention by going into the Forbidden Forest with Hagrid to help him hunt down a wounded unicorn," the three older Winchesters stopped dead in there tracks looking down at the youngest.

"Unicorns really exist?" Sam asked.

"I don't know about in the muggle world but in the wizarding world they do."

"Muggle?" Sam questioned.

"Nonmagical people," John explained.

"You know what, I could give a crap about unicorns or muggles, what the hell were you in detention for?" Dean glared down at his son.

"Well, I was out after hours," he said suddenly realizing what he had revealed.

Dean put his face right in his son's, Harry's eyes went wide and round when he met his father's gaze, "do not let me hear about you getting detention again," he drawled out slowly.

"Yes, sir," he gulped.

Dean took Harry around the campsite showing him how to draw Anasazi symbols in the dirt. The three older Winchesters watched that the youngest didn't cross the protective circle as they set up camp for the night. As the sun started to go down the four of them sat down to a dinner consisting of hotdogs and beans both cooked over an open flame.

"Are you sure that the wendio can't cross the circle of symbols?" Harry asked looking around cautiously.

"Don't worry shrimp, we're perfectly safe o.k.," Sam reassured him putting an arm around Harry's shoulders.

"Alright," he said still feeling a pang of fear.

"Help me!" a man 's voice screamed from the dark woods the three older Winchesters looked around at each other grinning, while Harry jumped at the scream.

"Thought it would never find us," John calmly said walking over to the duffle bag that held the mini-flamethrowers, passing each one to the boys.

"Help me!" the scream came again.

Shaking Harry lit his mini-flamethrower with his Zippo, a hand was placed on his shoulder, he jumped as he looked up at his father, "it's o.k., son," Dean squeezed his shoulder.

"Don't fire until you got a clear shot," John instucted, mainly to his grandson.

"I can't see anything," Dean suddenly clamped a hand over his son's mouth taking it off he put a finger to his lips.

Again they heard it, this time from a different direction, to Harry it seemed closer "help me!"

John grinned narrowing his eyes, "come on out you son of a bitch."

Seeing the familiar white owl, Harry closed his eyes concentrating, he began to see the forest outside the circle looking at the camp watching himself and his family standing back to back. Scanning around the camp, in parts that were too dark for any human to see, but were like daylight to an owl's eyes, Harry suddenly saw it, the wendigo, it's twisted form faced the hunters camp.

Harry opened his eyes and raised the flamethrower towards the creature, releasing a gust of flame that engulfed it. Letting out a high pitched scream the wendigo burnt to ash.

John smiled, looking proudly at his grandson, "hell of a hunter," he said clapping Harry on the back.

Both Sam and Dean looked at him with shocked expressions, "not trying to look a gift horse in the mouth but, how did you know where it was?" Dean asked taking Harry's mini-flamethrower from him.

Harry put up his arm as a perch and Hedwig flew down from an overhead tree landing on it.

"Saw it through Hedwig's eyes, dad," he said grinning up at his father.

"You know what, we'll talk about this in the morning," Dean said walking towards his tent.

The next day the foursome walked back out of the forest, Harry told them about how he had discovered his ability with Hedwig.

"It's quite rare, really as far as I know only a hand full of people are able to make that sort of emotional connection with an animal," he said proudly.

"Ever used it to check out the girls locker room?" Dean asked with eyebrows raised.

"No, dad, I'm not a pervert," Harry said exasperated, rolling his eyes.

"I would," Dean mumbled under his breath.

"Stop giving my grandson bad ideas," John chastised.

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"Dad, grab his legs, hold him down, Harry wakeup son, come on son, wake up," Dean pleaded slapping his son lightly on the face.

Harry began opening his eyes slowly, trying to focus on his father's voice, "dad, what happened, where am I."

"Your right here, at home, safe," Dean said running a hand through his son's sweat soaked hair.

"You o.k., Sam?" John looked over at his youngest getting up, holding the back of his head.

Harry sat on the edge of the bed, "what happened, Uncle Sam?"

"I tried to hold you down and your magic flung me into the wall," sounding a bit angrier then he really ment to.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to," Harry stammered out, Dean gave his younger brother an irritated look.

"You didn't do anything wrong, shrimp, you can't control bad dreams," Sam smiled at his nephew.

Harry put on a weak smile, Dean noticed the tired look in his son's eyes, "ya, you flicked him like a booger," that made Harry truely laugh.

"Come on lets get some ice on that head of yours," John said turning Sam around heading out of the room.

"Lets get you cleaned up and in some new pajamas," Dean said getting up.

After wiping the sweat off of Harry and getting some fresh cloths, Dean stretched out on the edge of Harry's bed.

"You staying, dad?"

"Just til you fall asleep," Dean answered looking over at the nightstand, noticing the picture of his son as a baby being held by his mother and step-dad. Picking up the picture he staired at it for moment raising his eyebrows when he realized that the picture actually moved. Harry saw the look on his father's face and grinned.

"It's a magical photo," Harry explained.

"Ya, so I see," Dean said placing the photo back on the table still stairing at it.

"How did you and mum meet anyway?" Harry questioned his father.

"Well, you know that we met at the roadhouse, I remember seeing this sexy little redhead come walking through the door..."

"Dad, your making me nauseous," Harry said making Dean laugh.

"Hey, you asked."

"That's not what I ment."

"O.K., o.k., lets see what can I tell you that won't make you sick," Dean sighed thinking, "Umm, I remember she said that she was here in the U.S. because it was some sort of holiday and that she wanted to have some fun before she settled down to get married."

"She was on holiday, it means that she was on vacation, how long did you spend together?"

"Two weeks, I was twenty-one at the time, I remember your mom wanting to spend more time with me but, I was young and stupid, more worried about the hunt then anything else," Dean sighed thinking back, "I swear if I would have known..." he said trailing off.

"It's not your fault what happened to me, dad, you shouldn't feel guilty for things that other people do," Harry said comforting his father's guilty conscience.

Dean grinned over at his boy, "get some sleep," he said folding his arms over his chest and getting comfortable.

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A pecking at the outside door of the bunker alerted John and Sam as they went over a possable lead to another hunt. Looking at each other with confussion, Sam got up and headed towards the door, holding his 9mm at the ready. John backed his son up with a .45 revolver. When Sam opened the door a brown owl flew in with a package clutched in it's claws. Dean came into the library just in time to have it buzz by him.

"What the hell is that?" Dean yelled.

"It's an owl," Sam answered coming down the stairs.

"Looks like it's brought something," John said slowly approching the bird and looking at the box it had dropped on the table, "Harry!" John yelled for his grandson.

"What is it grandpa?" Harry said as he came running in the room. Seeing the large bird perched on the back of one chairs, he saw the box it had brought.

"Get away from that, Harry," Dean said grabbing his son by the shoulders pulling him back.

"It's o.k. dad, it's just a delivery owl, looks like it brought me something," Harry went over to the box as his grandfather came in with a bowl of water for the thirsty looking bird.

"Who's it from?" Sam asked stairing intently as his nephew opened the letter that was attached to the box.

"It's from Ron and Hermione, a birthday gift," Harry exclaimed happily.

"Your birthday's not for another couple of days," Dean said watching as Harry opened the box carefully.

"True, but that doesn't mean I can't enjoy it now."

"So, what did they send you, hair-ball," John asked sitting down next to his grandson.

"Awesome, Hermione sent me my cloak of invisibility back, I asked her to hang on to it because I was afraid of Uncle Vernon getting a hold of it, knowing him he'd try to burn it or something," Dean narrowed his eyes at the name.

"Cloak of invisibility?" Sam questioned a little sceptical.

"Watch this," Harry said wrapping the cloak around himself with only his head showing making his family's eyebrows raise.

"That could definitely come in handy," John said stairing at his grandson's floating head. John egged him on to see what else was in the box.

"It's a book, how to create magical weapons, has to be from Hermione," Harry said reading the title.

"Let me see that," Sam said reaching for the book.

"Nerd," Dean mumbled, Sam simply ignored him thumbing through the book.

"Some of these actually might be doable."

"Do you think we could create some more weapons like the demon killing knife or maybe even another colt?" John asked looking at his youngest son.

"Maybe not as powerful as the colt but maybe something similar," Sam answered.

"Hell we could create an arsenal with that," Dean said grinning.

When Harry's birthday did arrive the foursome went out to dinner Dean asked him if he wanted to do anyhthing special for his thirteenth.

"Would you let me find the next hunt?" Harry asked looking up at his father.

"Sure, just have Sammy check out your findings and we'll go from there," Dean told him.

Later on the four Winchesters decided to have a cake and presents for the youngest of the group.

"Happy birthday,son," Dean said placing the cake in front of Harry and lighting the candles.

"Shouldn't we sing happy birthday?" Sam asked nobody in particular.

"Dude, can you be more gay," Dean said rolling his eyes towards his brother.

In the end nobody sang happy birthday, which was just fine by Harry, that song just reminded him of the Dursey's. Having to clean up the mess that was left behind after Dudley's birthday parties. After the cake it was time for Winchester style presents.

"Grandpa's rights," John claimed pushing a handgun case towards his grandson.

"Thanks, grandpa," Harry said opening the handgun case. What he pulled out of the case even had his father and uncle saying "wow."

"Damn dad, why didn't you just bye him a bazooka," Dean said stairing at the gun in his son's hand.

Harry held a .357 magnum with a four inch barrel, chrome plated with pearl hand grips, engraved in the grips were his inishles, H.J.W.

"Wow, grandpa, it's beautiful."

"It's not just a thing to admire, Harry, it's a tool, one that can grow with you, right now the .357 rounds are just too powerful for you to handle, so you can load it with the lighter .38 rounds instead," John watched as his grandson turned the gun in his hand noticing the holes bored in the barrel, "those holes are called porting, they're for better accuracy, also you have a rail on top to allow you to put on a scope."

"What are these, grandpa?" he asked picking up a small round object with what looked like screw on the back.

"Those are speed loaders, since your going to be carrying a revolver instead of a semi-auto you'll need to be able to reload faster," John explained. Harry put the gun back in it's case and thanked his grandfather again. "Lets see you top that," John said folding his arms across his chest, grinning at his sons.

"Fine, we get it, you enjoy spoiling your only grandchild," Dean said handing Harry his presents.

Harry opened his first present from his father, it was a silver flask filled with holy water. The second present was a 12 inch bowie knife in a leather sheath, pulling it out of the sheath, Harry noticed the blade had an unusual pattern on it which made the knife look exquisite.

"It's called Damascus steel, beautiful pattern and razor sharp, I'll show you how to keep it that way, the handle is bone, brass and olive wood," Dean told his son smiling.

"Thank you so much, dad, I'll always take care of it," Harry promised putting the knife back in it's sheath.

"I guess I'm next," Sam said putting his presents on the table.

"Your last," Dean teased, Sam just ignored him.

Sam slid over two wrapped presents, unlike his father and grandfather, his uncle took the time to make them look like presents. Harry opened the smaller of the two, and discovered an ipod with earbuds.

"That's for long trips with your dad so you don't have listen to his misic the entire time," Sam said looking over at his older brother with a grin.

"Always trying to influence my son," Dean said shaking his head with mock annoyance.

Harry laughed at the two older Winchesters as he opened his second present from his uncle. Which was to his suprise a laptop computer, Harry was so excited that he wrapped his arms around his uncle thanking him profusely.

"Looks like I won," Sam said looking towards his father and brother smiling widely. Both oloder Winchesters grinned shaking their heads, "I'll teach you how to skype so you can talk to any of your friends that have a laptop and of coarse I'll show you what to look for when finding our next hunt."

The rest of the day Harry learned to use each one of his presents, he quickly realized these were not toys, but tools of a life that he was now being raised into.

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**Author's notes: I like to thank everyone for their sopport and for the reviews both good and bad.**

**Yes, I will be bringing in Adam but since I'm not following the timeline anyway it will be his first meeting his brothers and nephew.**

**I hope you enjoyed this chapter will update soon.**

**If anyone would like to suggest anything for future chapters please feel free.**

**Please be kind with your reviews, it's my first fanfic. **


	5. Chapter 6

Chapter 5

Harry walked into the library holding a manila folder, he dropped it in front of his uncle.

"What's this, shrimp?" Sam asked opening up the folder.

"It's our next hunt," Harry said.

Sam went over the folder, it contained several copies of stories about jewlery store burglaries. At first he didn't see anything unusual until his nephew pointed out each person that was arrested had an alibi and witnesses, one was even in another state at the time. Yet, the security cameras had them dead to rights.

"I think it might be a shapeshifter, unless all these people have evil twins," Harry suggested.

"You did a nice job putting this file together, shrimp, come on I want to check out something on the map," Sam said getting up with Harry following.

"So what are we looking for?"

"Well, here's where the burglaries happened,"Sam pointed out the four locations, "they're all within a square mile of each other."

"Well, since it's hitting jewlery stores are there anymore in the area?" Harry asked looking at the map.

"Two more in fact, here and here," Sam pointed out the other stores.

"So, where do we go from here?"

"We stake the places out, from the information that you gathered it looks like it hits a store every couple of weeks, we could also talk to the local P.D. for more info. too, but I doubt we'll need to do that," Sam explained.

"So grandpa, if this thing can look like anybody, then how do we know what to look for?" Harry asked sitting in his grandfather's truck. They had been sitting for several hours and the boredom was getting to him.

"Well, if it tries to break in the jewlery store then most likely it's the shapeshifter," John said getting a little irritated from Harry's restlessness. Sighing, John took a sip of his coffee, looking over at his grandson stairing out the window, he smiled realizing this was Harry's hunt, he found it and John should be proud of him not irritated.

Harry's phone rang, answering it, he looked over at John, "dad and Uncle Sam said that someone's heading towards the backdoor of the store their watching."

"Tell them we're on our way," he said starting the truck up.

As the two of them pulled up behind the Impala they noticed that both brothers were gone.

"Weapons check Harry," John said pulling out his own .45 revolver, checking the cylinder to make sure it was loaded, Harry imitated his grandfather as well as opening the glove box taking out two flashlights, passing one to John. Both grandfather and grandson exited the truck, again Harry imitated John's movements as they headed towards the alley that lead to the backdoor of the jewlery store.

Reaching the backdoor, they saw Sam coming out, "where's Dean?" John asked his youngest son.

"He's still inside, we lost the shapeshifter," Sam said seeing his father and nephew coming down the alleyway. Harry entered the store first as John took up the rear, the oldest Winchester suddenly spun around aiming his gun at Sam.

"Grandpa, what are you doing?" Harry said stairing at John.

"That's not Sam."

"Dad, it's me, Sam, Harry, your grandpa is making a mistake, it's me your Uncle Sam," he pleaded.

"Harry, don't listen to him go find your father and uncle, now," John said, without warning the shapeshifter ran, slamming the metal door. John hit the door with his shoulder running out chasing after the creature. Realizing what had just happened Harry obeyed the oldest Winchester, holding his gun straight out in front of him. As he opened the door to go into the main part of the store he saw his father and uncle lying on the ground knocked unconscious.

"Wake up, dad," he said shaking his father's shoulder, Harry slapped him lightly on the face and Dean began to stir, opening his eyes seeing his son.

"Where's Sammy?" he asked Harry.

"Over there, still unconscious," he answered.

"Sammy get up," Dean said roughly shaking his brother.

"Come on, grandpa went after it," Harry said stirring the two brothers.

As the trio ran towards the back door John was coming back in, Harry trained his gun on his grandfather, "don't move," he said. Dean pushed his son's sleeve up and removed one of the silver knives.

"Touch this," he said holding the silver knife towards his father. When John did and his skin didn't burn they all relaxed.

"So what happened?" Sam asked.

"We need to get out of here first, we'll talk about it at the motel," John answered.

Back at the motel the four hunters gathered in one room to discuss the events of that night.

"It was too fast I wasn't able to keep up with it, then it disappeared," John told his sons and grandson.

"I think we all know where it went," Sam said looking around.

"Well, you blokes may know, but I don't," Harry spoke up.

"The sewers," the three older Winchesters said all at once.

"O.K., I got the maps," Sam said coming into the room. Sam and Harry had spent the better part of the day in the town hall. He spread the sewer map out on the table so that the other Winchesters could compare it with the city map.

"These have got to be the tunnels that it's using to get around, they run right next to the jewlery stores," John said.

The four Winchsters went down the ladder into the sewer tunnels, Harry pulled out a bandana covering his mouth and nose.

"Why do we have to go to the worst smelling places on these hunts?" Harry asked trying not to gag.

"Your the one who found this hunt, shrimp, besides it's not like you haven't contributed to the smell down here," Sam said flashing his light around the tunnel and checking his bearing with the map.

"Did you really have to remind me, Uncle Sam?"

"So, where do we start seaching?" John asked looking over Sam's shoulder at the map.

"Well, according to the map, there should be a large room, that way," Sam pointed with his flashlight.

"Alright, from here we spread out a little give each other room to move, keep your gun trained towards the ground with your finger off the trigger, like we taught you," Dean told his son.

Dean took the lead with Harry behind, once again keeping the youngest between himself and John, with Sam taking up the rear. As they came close to the room, Dean spotted a pile of cast off skin, kneeling down he flicked out his knife sticking the blade in it picking up a piece, grinning over at Harry.

"I swear if you do it, dad, I'll pee in your shampoo bottle," Harry threatened.

Dean's grin went away instantly, dropping the shedded skin on the ground, "spoil sport."

"That's how they transform into different people, by shedding their skin like snakes?" Harry asked wrinkling his nose at the site.

"Nails and teeth, too," Dean answered standing back up.

As Dean entered the room the shapeshifter came out of nowhere grabbing him in a choke hold with a knife up to his throat. John raised his gun and Sam got infront of his nephew raising his own weapon.

"Let him go you, bastard, you got no way of escaping," John said moving to the side, trying to get a better aim at the shapeshifter.

Taking the advantage of being hidden behind his oversized uncle, Harry wrapped himself in his cloak of invisibility. Slowly he crept behind the shapeshifter, pulling out one of his silver knives he buried it all the way to the hilt in the back of it's shoulder. Screaming in pain, it whirled around slashing in the air wildly as Dean shoved it away from himself. John and Sam both fired simultaneously dropping the creature.

"Harry?!" Dean yelled out, looking around.

"Right here, dad," he answered removing the cloak.

The four Winchesters searched the room, not finding much at first til Dean found a large duffle bag with money inside.

"Bingo," he said picking it up and showing it to the family.

"So, do we give it back to the stores," Harry asked looking around at his elders.

The three older Winchesters looked around at each other and at the sametime replied, "hell no."

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The Winchesters needed to resupply their ammo, Dean took Harry to the local sporting store at the mall.

"Check this out, son," Dean said holding up a wicked looking serrated pocket knife. Harry kept looking out towards the mall not paying attention to his father.

"Hey, dad, would it be o.k. if I went out into the mall?"

Dean sighed, realizing he was dealing with a teenage son that was lacking any friends, "sure, son, just be careful, you got your cell on you?"

"Sure, right here," Harry answered holding up his phone.

"Have fun."

Harry walked around the mall looking at the different stores and checking out the things for sale from the vendors. The smell of fresh baked pretzels wafered in the air drawing him towards them. Going to the counter he ordered one with a small Pepsi, he then stopped at a vender that was selling necklesses. Suddenly he got the feeling he was being watched and began looking around for the threat, but instead he saw several young girls around his age giggling and stairing at him. Harry heard one of them comment about how cute he was, which made him blush. His cell phone started to ring and it took him a moment to realize it was his.

"Hello?" he said answering it.

"Go over there and talk to them," his father's voice said coming over the phone.

"Dad?" Harry questioned looking around.

"Go over there and talk to them," Dean reiterated.

"What do I say?" he asked.

"Hello, my name is Harry," Dean answered hanging up.

Harry adjusted his leather jacket and walked over to the girls, while Dean watched from a distance smiling, "that's my boy," he mumbled under his breath.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Dad, please relax, your way too tense," Harry said as Dean gripped the arm rests of his seat tightly.

"I hate this," Dean said as turbulence bounced the plane around.

Harry had taken the isle seat giving his father the window, trying to hold in his laughter from his father's apprehension he flagged down one of the stewardesses giving her the puppy dog look his uncle had taught him, "excuse me ma'am, is there anyway my father could get a strong drink to calm his nerves?"

Smiling she handed Dean a rum and coke, looking around she handed him two small bottles of rum, "keep this between you and me o.k.?" she said patting Harry on the shoulder.

The Winchesters got off the plane and out into the terminal of London City Airport, heading towards the baggage claim. Grabbing Harry's luggage and Hedwig's birdcage they headed towards the doors to grab a cab. Hermione had picked up all of Harry's school supplies for him at Diagon Alley and he had sent Hedwig ahead with his silver knives since he couldn't bring them on the plane. They had gotten there a couple days early so they could spend some father and son quality time together. Getting to the hotel Dean took a shower and as he changed into some fresh clothes, Harry did the same.

"So you know any good restaurants that we can goto?" Dean asked tossing Harry his leather jacket.

"I really don't know, dad, Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia never took me to one, I'm sure we can ask the clerk at the desk what he recommends," Harry said putting on his jacket.

"You know what, _do not_ call them your aunt and uncle again, they have no right to those titles," Dean said angrily.

"Sorry, dad," Harry dropped his eyes to the floor, feeling bad for getting mad, Dean approached his son running his hand through Harry's hair.

"I'm sorry, son, I didn't mean to yell at you, it's just," he paused taking Harry under the chin and lifting his face to his own, "what they did to you is unforgivable."

"It's o.k., dad, I know your not mad at me, life is too short for hatred, what they did to me was horrible and I wish I could truly hate them the way you do, but I can't, their still my family no matter what."

"Your a better man then I could could ever hope to be, son," he said putting his arm around him and walking out of the hotel room.

The next two days where spent going to different sites around London, driving a rental car, they saw the London Eye, Big Ben and the British Museum. All of those things that Harry had never seen growing up with the Durseys. His father had commented on how Sam would have loved the Museum (because he's a nerd) and that next time the whole family's coming along.

"I don't get it, why platform 9 and 3/4, why not 9 and 1/2 makes a hell of a more sense to me," Dean complained as they walked through King's Cross Station.

Harry simply ignored him the way his uncle had taught him to, when his father was uncomfortable he would go off into a complaining fit.

"This is it, dad," Harry said stopping between platforms 9 and 10. Dean watched in amazment as several children went straight through the solid metal ticket box that divided the two platforms.

"So how do we do this?"

"Just follow my lead and trust me, dad," the two went through the barrier and Dean turned to stair at it shaking his head.

"Harry!" the two Winchesters turned to see a young girl about Harry's own age with brown, bushy hair running towards them.

"That's Hermione," he said smiling up at his father.

"I got all your things for you and here's what's left of the money you sent me," she practically barried him in books and supplies to Dean's amusment.

"Thank you," Harry said placing the supplies in his trunk, "Hermione, this is my father, Dean Winchester."

"It's nice to meet you Mr. Winchester, I thought that there was an uncle and grandfather as well?" she asked cocking her head to the side.

"They decided to stay behind, maybe next time you'll get to meet them," Dean answered.

A whistle blew from the train signaling everyone to begin boarding, "I have to go now, dad."

"O.K., make sure you write at least once a week and stay out of trouble, no more detentions and I mean it,too."

"I promise, dad, I will," Harry kept saying as Herminone grinned at the two, Dean hugged his son and kissed the top of his head, "I have to go, I love you." The two young magic users boarded the train waving good bye to Dean.

After getting back to the rental car, Dean realized that he still had a whole other day to kill before his flight back to the America. Using his hunter's skills he decided to ask some questions around town, getting the address for the Vernon Dursey. Plugging the address into his cell's GPS he followed it. Pulling up to the house he got out, walking up to the little generic home, knocking on the door a large man opened it.

"Yes, may I help you," Vernon asked looking Dean up and down.

"Are you Vernon Dursey, Harry Potter's uncle?"

"That boy ran away months ago and good riddance to him, now get off my property you freak," he said starting to close door. Dean shoved the door open surprising the man, cocking back his arm he slammed his fist into Vernon's nose breaking it with a crack. Falling on his back Petunia and Dudley ran to his side.

"I'm his father and that's for what did to him, you son of a bitch," Dean about faced and headed back to the car.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

School seemed different to Harry that year, instead of feeling free like he had always felt after leaving the Dursey's, he felt rather lonely without his famiy. The professors and many of the students still called him Potter, it seemed to annoy them when he would correct them telling them his name was Winchester now, not Potter. At least quidditch still had it's excitment, he missed going on the hunts and decided that was what he wanted to do the moment he got back home. He noticed Ron and Hermione seemed to look at him a bit differently, too. Not in a bad way, just kind of awe at his physical training, when most wizards and witches could barely do a push-up, Harry on the other hand did fifty push-ups first thing in the morning along with fifty sit-ups. Getting permission from Professor McGonagall to jog in the courtyard early in the morning surprised both his friends and teachers, especially when Ron and his brothers saw Harry with a punching bag that he would keep miniaturized in his trunk. Before coming home for Christmas break Harry had gained two inches in height and ten pounds of wiry muscle.

"Looking good, shrimp," Harry heard as he exited the Hogwarts Express, turning he saw his uncle and the rest of the family coming over with grins on their faces. Roughing up his hair and commenting on how he had grown, the three older Winchesters greeted the youngest.

Getting back home after the flight Harry was in the shooting range getting some much needed target practice, when his uncle came in.

"Your out of practice," Sam said noticing his nephew's grouping.

"It's not that bad, Uncle Sam," he said emptying his .357's cylinder.

"Did it feel good to be back to your school?" Sam asked as he loaded his own 9mm and setup a target for himself.

Harry shrugged at the question, "believe it or not I kind of felt out of place, which was wierd because I had always felt more at home there then anywhere else."

"You know Harry, I felt the same way when I went to Stanford, when your dad came and got me to search for your grandpa, I don't know, something about that first hunt after so long it felt right, not that I planned to keep doing it at the time, but to be with your dad on the hunt, it felt good," Sam admitted.

"You think that's what's happening with me, that I'm getting addicted to the hunt?" Harry asked loading up again.

"I think your getting addicted to being with family," Harry thought about his uncle's statement while he set up his next target. It did make sense, he never had a real family and even though the Winchesters were sort of dysfunctional, he would rather be with them then anywhere else.

"So you find any hunts?" Harry asked his uncle.

"Well, we think there could be a vampire on the loose, bodies have been found drained right out in the open," Sam said indicating that his nephew put on his hearing protection. After firing off the clip, Sam brought back the target unclipping it, he showed it to Harry, there were two small groupings of holes in the heart and head.

Sighing, Harry took the target, "so when are we going on the hunt?"

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Sitting in the Impala with his father next to him, Harry was using Hedwig's sight to search the alley, while Dean played with his radio.

"See anything, son?" he asked watching Harry with his eyes closed, Dean would never say it out loud, but his son spooked him out when he made that psychic connection with his pet owl.

"Nothing right now," Harry said opening his eyes, looking over at his father.

"Your Uncle Sam was telling me what you said about Hogwarts, that you don't feel as if you belong there," Dean said flipping off the radio.

"It's not that I feel that I don't belong, just different somehow, I mean, I think Uncle Sam might be right, I've spent my whole life wishing for a real family and now that I have one I have to go away to school for months at a time, I guess what I'm saying is that for the first time since I started going to Hogwarts, I'm getting homesick."

"You know if you don't want to go back we can figure something else out, maybe they have magic schools here in the U.S.," Dean said looking at the alley.

"That sounds good, but, I'd like to at least finish this year and see how I feel then," Harry told his father as he closed his eyes concentrating on Hedwig again.

"I see someone in the alley," Harry said sitting up.

"You think it's the vampire?"

"It's a kid, a boy, maybe about my age, he's crouched by one of the dumpesters," Harry finished before opening his eyes again, he rubbed his temples with his hands, trying to make the trobbing go away.

"You o.k.," Dean asked looking at his son worriedly.

"Ya, it's just when I concentrate for too long I get bad headaches."

Dean pulled out his cell phone, scrolling down to Sam's number he dialed, "Sam, your on."

Harry watched as his uncle exited his grandfather's truck and headed towards the alley walking slowly, purposely trying to attract attantion. Meanwhile the other Winchesters began getting out of there vehicles, slowly pulling out their blades. They all heard Sam whistling loudly as he walked deeper into the alley. Suddenly the vampire that Harry had saw earlier jumped out grabbing onto Sam, trying to get at his throat. Sam threw the young vampire off of him, slamming it into the dumpester. Pulling out his own bowie knife he prepared to take off it's head, when he heard his nephew yell for him to stop.

"He's just a kid, Uncle Sam, don't do it," Dean grabbed his son by the arm pulling him back as the vampire kid jumped at Harry, the vampire was suddenly hit by a light, paralyzing it.

"Where did that come from?" John asked coming into the the alley behind Harry and Dean.

"I have no idea," Sam answered looking down the alleyway. A garbage can suddenly fell over at the other end, making the four Winchesters raise their weapons. A black dog came out from between the cans, looking back at them, then quietly walking off out the other side.

Inside an old warehouse, the four hunters had the vampire boy tied to a chair, the paralyzing spell had worn off and he struggled against his bonds like a wild animal.

"Hey, relax your not getting out of those ropes so stop struggling aready," Dean suggested to the vampire boy.

After a few more struggles, he finally got the message and sat back glaring at Dean.

"So where's your nest?" John asked looking down at the boy.

"Goto hell," the vampire boy grumbled back at the oldest hunter.

"So you do have a nest, how many and where?" Dean interrogated.

The vampire boy turned away, this time putting his gaze on Harry, not allowing the creature boy to intimidate him, Harry returned the gaze. Dean noticed the stair down between the two and mentally smiled at his son.

"Hey, hey," Dean snapped his fingers in front of the vampire's face, "where is the nest and how many are there?"

"Just do it already, I'm not going to tell you anything," the vampire boy growled out.

"Fine," Dean said pulling out his bowie knife.

"Don't look, Harry," Sam told his nephew, Harry buried his face in his uncle's side and as he heard his father's knife slice threw the vampire boy's neck, he jumped a little.

"Sammy, get him out here," Dean ordered his younger brother motioning towards his son. Sam did as he was told turning Harry around leading him out of the warehouse with a hand on his back.

Sam leaned back against the Impala with Harry leaning up against him, Sam's arms were draped around his nephew. They saw Dean and John walking out of the warehouse after cleaning up the mess.

"Take him back to the motel, Sammy," Dean ordered tossing him the keys to the Impala.

"Where are you going?" Sam asked them.

"We're going to see if we can find the nest it can't be that far away from here and there's got to be more vamps running around, maybe we can get one of them to tell us where it is," Dean said following his father to the black truck.

"I'm not going back to the motel, we still have a hunt to finish," Harry spoke up.

"Yes you are," Dean answered not wanting to argue the point with his son.

"That's not fair, dad, I should be part of this hunt," Harry argued.

"I don't have to be fair, I'm your father," Dean said getting in John's truck.

"But...," Harry tried again.

"Motel, now!" Dean finished closing the truck's door.

As Sam and Harry drove down the road, Harry kept complaining about being taken out of the hunt, "I don't get it, why did dad take me out of this hunt."

"Because you screwed up, Harry, you stopped me from taking out that vamp and almost got yourself killed in the process," Sam said irriated from his nephew's griping, the biggest problem was, he sounded so much like Dean it was eerie.

"O.K., fine, I screwed up, I over reacted and let my emotions get the better of me, but he was just a kid, who would turn a kid that young and why," Harry asked his uncle.

"Well, I don't know the who part but, my best guess of why is that it's easer for a kid to bring home dinner," Sam explained to his nephew.

Harry reached under the seat for his laptop, pulling it out he began seaching for missing children in the area, as the search went on he realized there were too many. Getting an idea, Harry pulled out his cell phone, scrolling down to Ashes number he dialed it.

"Hey Ash, I could use some help with something," Harry told the hacker over the phone.

"You realize your dad's going to kill me for this," Sam said as the two younger Winchesters were pulled over to the side of the street, going over the E-mail that Ash had just sent his nephew.

"Just tell him I cast a spell on you," Harry said sarcastically looking over his uncle's shoulder at the computer screen.

Ignoring his nephew, Sam read the files, "says here this guy was put on trial for allegedly kidnapping several children in the area but, there wasn't enough evidence to convict him on any of the counts, on top of that he disappeared after the trials."

"You think that could be our head vamp," Harry asked.

"Could be, here's the last known address," Sam said starting up the Impala.

"Should I call dad and grandpa?" Harry asked taking out his cell phone.

"Not til we check the place out first," Sam answered.

Again Harry sat in the Impala, eyes closed seeing threw Hedwig as she flew around the two story house. Landing on the roof she looked inside one of the upper windows seeing into an upstairs bedroom. Harry saw a child bent over a woman, tied to a bed in the middle of the room, as the child straightened up Harry could see blood around his mouth.

"That's got to be it, Uncle Sam, there's a vamp in the room upstairs," he said grabbing his cell phone out of his pocket scrolling down to his father's number, then reconsidering instead going to his grandfather's.

"What's the matter, Harry?" John said answering.

"Grandpa, we found the vamp's nest, I'll text you the address," his grandfather sighed over the phone knowing his oldest son was going to be pissed off when he heard that his brother and son disobeyed him.

"O.K. Hair-ball, we'll meet you there in a few, don't make a move until we get there, that's an order," John told his grandson hanging up.

"Grandpa wants us to hang tight til they get here," Harry said hanging up the phone looking over at his uncle.

John's black truck pulled up behind the Impala, the four reunited Winchesters got out of their vehicles. Dean eyed his younger brother angrily, then turned his glare on his son making the boy take a step behind his uncle.

"So what are we looking at?" John interrupted the stair down.

"Well, as far as we can tell there are at least five vamps in the house all kids, there's a woman in an upstairs bedroom tied to a bed, but there's no adult vamp, at least none that we can see," Sam said giving his father and brother the rundown.

The four hunters decided to split up into two teams, Harry and John taking the front, while Sam and Dean took the back.

"I know that they look like kids, Harry, they're not, they're monsters, and they'll kill you without a second thought, don't hesitate, they won't," John sternly told his grandson. Harry nodded his head gripping his knife tighter. As they heard the backdoor being kicked in John slammed his foot against the front, both young and old hunters entered the house redding their weapons.

A young girl no older then eight, came at them from Harry's direction, he swung the knife as the girl closed in on him, taking off her right arm just above the elbow. Screaming in pain the vampire girl held the stump of her arm as blood squirted out. Harry pulled back his knife again swinging this time aiming for her neck, the razer sharp blade cut straight threw flesh and bone severing her head, it hit floor like a ball bouncing and rolling.

The four Winchesters cleared out the rest of the house, there was a total of six vampire children, but no adult. Dean checked the woman that had been tied up in the bed to see if she still had a pulse, there was none. Harry sat outside the house on the porch wiping the blood off his face.

"You did good in there, son," Dean said sitting next to Harry, running his hand threw his son's hair.

"I did what I had to, besides, we didn't save the woman and if we're right that adult vamp got away, we didn't do anything here but kill a bunch of kids," Harry told his father.

Signing, Dean put his arm around his son's shoulders and pulled him closer to himself, Harry leaned his head against his father's side and began silently crying.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Christmas had finally come to the Winchester home, since it was Harry's first real Christmas Dean decided to invite the extended family, including Bobby, Ellen, Joe, Ash, and Garth. Harry had heard alot of things about both Bobby and Garth, he admitted that it was nice finally having a chance to meet them. Bobby in particular, of what his father and uncle told him, Bobby was like another father to them. Garth on the other hand was a little weird and seemed to annoy Dean by hugging him all the time, making Harry laugh. He received presents from both friends and family, including an E.M.F. meter from his Uncle Sam, a sawed-off auto-loading 12 gauge Remington shotgun from his grandfather and a .308 bolt-action Remington 700 rifle with a Leupold Longrange scope, when he noticed the large cylinder on the end of the rifle, Bobby explained to him that it was a homemade silencer and that he would teach him how to make one.

"Come on, son," Dean said putting his arm around Harry's shoulders, leading him to the garage, "my present's out here."

Dean walked over to something covered with a drop cloth, pulling it back to reveal a 1974 Yamaha DT 1-250 Enduro.

"Wow dad, it's awesome, you got this for me?" he questioned looking the dirt bike over.

"I didn't just bye it, son, I rebuilt it from the ground up, while you were at school," Dean told him, smiling proudly at the bike.

"I don't know what to say," Harry ran his hand over the dirt bike's seat, feeling the leather.

"You don't need to say anything, son, you deserve it," Dean said pulling Harry into a hug.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Harry sat in the common room in front of the fire writting a letter to his family, when Hermione and Ron walked in sitting next to him.

"Did something happen during Christmas break?" Hermione asked taking Harry's letter away from him to get his attention.

"A lot happened during break," Harry responded.

"You know what I mean, Harry, you've been withdrawn, barely talking to anyone and we've also had to hear it third party that your thinking about not coming back to Hogwarts next year," Hermione finished exasperated, leaning back into the couch.

"It's true," Harry started, looking at his best friends, "something did happen and yes, I'm thinking about not coming back next year."

"Why, I thought you loved Hogwarts?" Ron asked.

"I do, but I love my family more and I want to spend more time with them, I'll make sure that I keep in touch with you both, if I decide not come back, your my best friends and I'll never turn my back on either one of you," he told them.

Sighing Ron and Hermione looked at each other, "o.k., we understand, if you do decide not to come back and you ever need us we'll be there for you, no matter what," Hermione said wrapping her arms around Harry's neck.


	6. Chapter 7

Chapter 6

_(One) _

_(by Metallica)_

That summer when Harry came home, he had grown another three inches in height and had gained five more pounds of muscle from the rigorous training. He also had a lot he needed to learn, such as how to ride his new dirt bike. Dean took the liberty of teaching his son, after crashing a few hundred times, with plenty of scraps, bruises and once dislocating his shoulder, which his uncle had to pop back in place, he got the hang of it. Racing it down the dirt roads at high speeds was a thrill in and of itself, but when he was out of eyesight of his father, he would park the bike and take his broom for a ride feeling the clear rushing air as he flew high into the sky.

Harry took his bike down to the local fruit market to pick up a few groceries to make his famous steak and potato salad. He went to the meat counter to check out the steaks on display inside the large glass case. A blond haired man stood by the cases, smiling over at Harry, he asked him if he could recommend anything. Although it had been drilled into him by the elder Winchesters, "never talk to strangers," Harry didn't see any harm in answering the man's question, especially when he knew the butcher behind the counter. Vinny was a beast of an Italian man, standing at 6 foot 4 with arms as big as Harry's waist, the old butcher had been saved by his grandfather from a poltergeist years ago, which ment you messed with John Winchester's grandson you're likely to have a pork roast shoved up your ass.

"So what I do for you today, little Winchester?" Vinny said in his broken english.

"Well, I'm making my steak and potato salad today, so I could use a couple of nice tender boneless steaks," Harry answered craning his neck to look at the giant of a man behind the counter.

"Tell you what, I give you best I got, how you papa doing?" Vinny asked wrapping up the steaks.

The blond man that stood next to Harry looked up at the name Winchester giving the boy a curious look.

"You tell your papa hello for me," Vinny said handing Harry the wrapped steaks.

"Thank you, Vinny and I will, I hope Mrs. Marino feels better soon," Harry waved goodbye to the old butcher.

"Hey, that kid that just left is he related to a John Winchester?" the blond man asked.

"And what if he is, you some kind of pervert, you stay away from that boy if you know what's good for you," Vinny growled out, turning away going back to putting the meat in the display case.

"Sorry I asked," he mumbled.

Harry walked around the fruit market picking up a few more things for his dinner, purposely dropping a can of spices he turned his head to look at the man that was following him. Straightening back up placing the can into his shopping cart he pulled out his cell phone scrolling down to his father's number.

"Hey dad, just calling to see if you needed me to pick up anything special," Harry listened to his father speak for a moment, "o.k., it seems I got some gum on my shoe at the fruit market, ya o.k., I love you too, dad."

Harry went by the front window acting as if he was looking at the grapefruits, when he saw the Impala pull up into a parking spot by his dirt bike. The youngest Winchester went to the registers and purchased his items, picking up his bags he headed past the black car where his father and uncle pertended to argue over a map. Placing the bags in a basket his father had attached to the front of the dirt bike, Harry picked up his helmet.

"Hey, kid can I ask you a...," was as far as the blond man got, when Harry suddenly spun around faster then the man could react, slamming his helmet into the man's side and getting behind his giant of an uncle, Sam grabbed the blond man, throwing him into the trunk. "What the hell do you think you're...," was again as far as he got before Dean came down with a right cross knocking him unconscious and slamming the trunk closed.

"Go home," Dean ordered, Harry jumped on his dirt bike and drove away towards the bunker, while the two brothers headed in the opposite direction.

Adam woke up tied to a chair in an old abandoned gas staition, looking around he saw the two men who assulted him.

"Hey, you're in big trouble buddy, so you better untie me right now," Adam threatened.

Dean slowly walked over to the younger man with a flask in his hand, splashing holy water on him. When he didn't smoke as the holy water hit him, Dean narrowed his eyes, pulling out a silver knife this time, he ran the razor sharp edge across the younger man's arm.

"What the hell's the matter with you!" Adam yelled.

"Well, you're not a demon or a shapeshifter, then what are you?" Sam asked walking over next to his older brother.

"I'll tell you what he is, he's a pedophile," Dean interrupted angrily.

"I'm not a pedophile, my names Adam Milligan, I'm an R.N. at Smith County Memorial Hospital, call them they'll confirm it," Adam pleaded with the brothers.

Sam left the room while Dean turned back towards Adam, "even if you do check out, why were you following my son?"

"That kid's your son?" Dean didn't bother to answer. "Look, are you related to John Winchester?" Again Dean didn't answer. "He's my father," that time Adam saw something change in the hunter's eyes.

Dean walked out of the room slamming the door behind him, seeing Sam on his laptop he approched.

"Well, he checks out and as far as I can tell he's not a convicted pedophile," Sam explained looking at his older brother walking over.

"He says he's our brother, that he's dad's son," Sam looked at his older brother incredibly.

Sam walked around Dean back into the room, pulling out his cell phone he snapped a picture of Adam and sent it to Harry attached to a text telling his nephew to show the picture to John.

Harry pulled out his cell phone and read the text, enlarging the picture he brought it over to his grandfather. John looked at the picture of Adam and sighed, "get your dad and uncle on the phone."

The Impala pulled into the underground garage and the now three brothers got out as John stood watching them.

"You o.k.?" John asked looking at Adam's bruised face.

"Ya, I'll live," Adam answered, giving his two older brothers an apprehensive look.

"Come on in, Harry's got dinner ready," John said motioning his three sons inside.

"So, you're an R.N.?" Harry asked awkwardly, trying to start up a conversation with his new uncle as the five of them sat down to his homemade dinner.

"Ya, I just started at the hospital about a month ago," Adam replied, "you make this all by yourself?"

"Sure, somebody has to, the only thing the adults in this family know how to do is kill monsters and get rid of ghosts," Harry blurted out.

"Harry!" Dean warned.

"Monsters, ghosts, what the hell have you people been teaching this kid?" Adam looked around the table at the three older Winchesters, "and for that matter what kind of place is this?"

"I guess we should talk," John said stabbing at a piece of steak.

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"O.K., Uncle Adam I'll ask dad if it's alright," Harry said hanging up the phone. He found his father in the kitchen stuffing his face with a whole apple pie.

"There's another pie in the fridge," Dean said looking up as Harry walked in.

"No thanks, dad," he said leaning on the counter, giving his father his puppy dog look.

Sighing, Dean put down his fork, "what?"

"May I stay the weekend at Uncle Adam's?"

"I don't know, Harry, I don't think that's a real good idea, have you asked Adam, I mean I'm sure he's busy working at the hospital and all," Dean rambled on.

"Actually, he's the one that asked me."

"Look, we just met him and you already want to stay the weekend with him?" Dean grumbled.

"He's family, dad," Harry told his father still giving him the look, "you don't trust him because you haven't even taken the time to try to get to know him."

"Alright, I'll drop you off at his apartment," Dean said finally giving in.

"He said he'll pick me up himself after his shift," he explained.

"I'll drop you off at his apartment," Dean repeated.

Adam opened the door to his oldest brother and nephew, smiling down at Harry he messed up the boys hair.

"Glad you could make it, how are you, Dean," Adam asked putting his hand out to shake his older brother's. Dean ignored it, looking around the apartment eyeing the furniture and electronics.

"So what are you two planning on doing this weekend," Dean asked turning his gaze on his youngest brother.

"That's up to Harry," Adam said returning Dean's stair.

"Alright, you two becareful and you better take care of my son," Dean said pointing a finger towards Adam.

"He doesn't like me very much does he?" Adam asked looking down at his nephew.

"He just doesn't know you, don't worry, dad seems mean, but he's really great once you get to know him," Harry said placing his backpack on one of the kitchen chairs, taking off his jacket Adam noticed the gun stuffed in the back of the boy's waistband.

"What the hell are you doing with that," Adam said charging over to Harry.

"With what?" Harry asked looking at his uncle confused.

"Give me the gun, now," Adam ordered putting out his hand.

Harry took out his gun from his waistband and handed it over obediently to his uncle. Adam staired at the large caliber handgun noticing the inishiles in the handgrips.

"It was a present for my thirteenth birthday, from grandpa," Harry explained proudly.

"Dad gave you a gun, for your thirteenth?" Adam asked his nephew, not believing what he had just heard.

"It's a tool not a toy, Uncle Adam, I was trained on how to use it properly," Harry told him folding his arms across his chest. That was when Adam saw the arm sheath on the boy's forearm with the silver knives.

"Jesus Christ, what are carrying an arsenal?" Adam exclaimed.

"I'm carrying the tools of my trade, grandpa told you what we do."

"I know what dad told me, Harry, and he's wrong, ghosts and monsters don't exist, they're made up to scare people."

"That's not true Uncle Adam, I've seen them, I've helped fight them, they do exist, just because you don't believe in something doesn't mean it's not real," Harry explained to his new uncle.

"What did those people do to you," Adam asked with a worried look at his nephew.

"So, what did you want to do tonight?" Harry asked trying to change the subject.

The two were driving back from the movie theater, Adam still thought about his nephew growing up with a bunch nut cases, family or no family he didn't trust them with the little boy next to him. He was such a good boy, very polite and respectful that it frightened Adam to let him go back home.

"I want you to know Harry, that if you ever need a place to go to get away from the rest of the family, my door will always be open, o.k., in fact here's a key," Adam said handing his nephew a key, while the boy still enjoyed the tub of popcorn from the theater.

"Thanks, Uncle Adam," Harry answered, taking the key.

Adam saw a lone woman walking down the side of the road, she turned to wave him down.

"Harry, roll down your window," Adam told the boy, as he stopped by the woman, "hey, are you o.k., do you need a ride?"

The woman looked inside the truck window a bit confused at first, "my son is missing, I got into a car accident a little ways back, hit a tree when I woke up he was gone."

"There's a gas station down the road, we can have the cops meet us there, then they can look for your son," Adam explained.

"O.K., that sounds good," she said still looking a bit confused. Harry scooted over in the bench seat allowing the woman to get in.

"What's your name?" Adam asked.

"Umm, ya, Alisha Feld," she answered looking out the window.

Pulling up to the gas station the three of them got out, Harry headed towards the restrooms while Adam gave Alisha his phone to call the cops. Taking out his cell phone Harry scrolled down to Sam's number.

"Uncle Sam, Does the name Alisha Feld sound familiar?" he asked.

On the other end, Sam thought for a moment, "ya, it does," he answered going through a stack of folders, finding the right one and opening it up.

"She died in a car accident back in '95, her seven year old son was with her, he survived, why are you asking me this?" Sam asked.

"Because I think I just met her ghost, but it's not like anything that you told me about, she's not fazing out or anything, it's like she's a living person," Harry told his uncle.

"A revenant, she's a revenant, Harry, where are you?" Harry gave his uncle the location of the gas station and then hung up.

"Uncle Adam!" Harry yelled from the restroom.

"What," Adam barked back.

"Umm, my fly's stuck, could you help me," Harry lied.

Adam shook his head, "kids," he mumbled, "alright be right there."

Leaving Alisha alone, Adam walked towards the restrooms to help his thirteen year old nephew.

"O.K., so what do you expect me to do exactly," Adam asked Harry as he entered the restroom.

"Uncle Adam, that woman is a revenant," he answered.

"A what, Harry, a revenant, what are you talking about," Adam asked stairing at his nephew.

"It's a kind of spirit, very rare, Uncle Sam's on his way."

"Harry, that woman is flesh and blood, these stories that your dad is telling you they're making you see things that aren't real and I've had about enough of listening to it," Adam said exasperated.

"Fine, I'll prove it," Harry said storming away towards Alisha.

"Harry, what...," Adam bit out after his nephew.

"Alisha, what year is it?" Harry asked as Adam caught up to his nephew.

"What kind of question is that?" she asked looking at Adam then back at Harry.

"Harry, that's enough, I'm sorry my nephew has an overactive imagination," Adam tried to explain to Alisha.

"Please, just answer the question, what year is it." Harry asked again, ignoring Adam.

"It's 1995, why is that so important?" Alisha asked looking at the both of them.

Just then the Impala pulled up with Sam in the driver's seat, getting out and walking towards the three of them, he looked at Alisha.

"I need you to come with me, I'll take you to your son," Sam told her, "you two come along as well," Sam said motioning all of them towards the Impala.

"I don't think so, I think I'll wait here," she said taking a step back.

"We're not going to hurt you, we just want to take you to your son," Harry said taking her hand gently.

"You know where Robby is, you know where my son is?"

"Ya, come on," Sam again motioned towards the Impala.

The Impala pulled up across from a small house, where a man and a toddler played outside on the lawn.

"Where are we, I thought you were going to take me to my son?" Alisha asked looking at Sam suspiciously.

"That is your son," Sam answered, turning in his seat, he nodded his head towards the man and little girl.

Alisha staired over at the happy little family with confusion on her face, "Robby, my Robby is only seven."

"Alisha, you said the year was 1995, it's not, it's 2015, you died 20 years ago today, in the car crash, your son, Robby survived the crash, he's now 27 with a 15 month old daughter," Sam explained, Harry watched his uncle taking note how and what he told the spirit.

"No, that can't be true, my son is missing, he's only seven, why are you saying these things to me?" Alisha asked, tears starting to come to her eyes.

"I'm sorry, Alisha, but it's true, I wish it wasn't, but it is, your spirit wanders the same part of road every year the day the accident happened, searching for your son."

Sitting back Alisha staired at the man and his daughter tears streaming down her face, "I remember now, a dog ran out in front of me, I swerved to avoid it and then everything went dark, the next thing I remember I was walking down the road looking for Robby."

"You need to let go, you need to move on," Sam told her.

"How, how do I do that, what will happen to me?" she asked looking at the different faces in the car.

"We don't know what will happen to you, Alisha, hopefully you'll go someplace better, be with people who love you," Sam said.

"That sounds beautiful," she almost whispered, reaching forward she grasped Sam's hand, "thank you," suddenly Alisha disappeared in flash of white light, Harry wiped the tears from his cheeks.

Silently the three of them made it back to the gas station, dropping the two younger Winchesters off at Adam's truck. Sam gave his nephew a one armed hug and told him he did a good job.

"All I did was call you, Uncle Sam, you're the one that put her to rest," Harry said with the memory still fresh in his mind, he swallowed a lump in his throat.

"You're the one who remembered her name, I'm proud of you shrimp, now go have some fun with Adam," Sam messed up Harry's hair and watched his nephew get out of the Impala.

On the drive back to Adam's apartment he looked over at Harry with a different sense of the boy, realizing that there was more to him then meets the eye.

"Harry, I want to apologize for the way I treated you, I treated you like you were some stupid little kid, I was wrong," Adam told his nephew.

"It's o.k., I understand," Harry was silent for a moment, "I guess since you know that the supernatural exist now, I should tell you something about me."

"There's more?" he asked.

Taking a deep breath, "I know that you're going to have a harder time with this one, I'm a wizard."

Dean heard an acoustic guitar playing in Harry's bedroom, pushing open the door he saw his son strumming on what looked like an old beat one.

"Where did you get that from?" Dean asked walking over to Harry.

"Uncle Adam gave it to me with some books of tablature, he taught me how to read it, it's pretty simple really, to read that is," Harry explained.

"You really like him, don't you, Adam I mean," Dean said sitting down next to him.

"Ya, and he likes me, too," Harry sighed looking at his father, "why don't you like him, dad?"

"It's not that I don't like him, son, I guess," Dean sighed feeling ashamed at what he was about to tell his only child, "I guess I'm a little jealous of him, he had a mom, and I understand that dad didn't know about him til he was 12 but still, he was able to have a nomal life, me and Sam, we had to grow up like this, I just feel that it's not fair."

"I hate to say this dad, but get over it," Dean looked at his son in mild shock, "did you know why Aunt Petunia hated me so much, because she was always jealous of my mum, she hated the idea that my grandparents were proud that she was going to Hogwarts, that she was a witch."

Dean looked down at the floor, feeling about an inch tall, not even able to meet his son's eyes.

Harry continued, "you have nothing to be jealous of, dad, you're a hero, you save peoples lives, can you imagine what this world would be like if you weren't a hunter?"

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Harry typed on his laptop while his grandfather looked over his shoulder, pointing at sites and news articles on the internet, printing out anything that had to do with missing children in a small area of Flint Michigan.

"So what do you think we're looking at, grandpa?" Harry asked.

"I'm thinking it's a rawhead, tell me about them," John quizzed.

Harry bowed his head thinking, John grinned watching his now fourteen year old grandson proudly, knowing that when he grew up he would be a force to be reckoned with.

"Well, they're humanoid looking with decaying skin, they live in basements, the usual superhuman strength, speed, umm, invulnerability to all weapons, except electricity and they feed on children, that's why we're looking up missing children in the area," Harry finished looking over at the oldest Winchester.

"Good boy," John said messing up the boy's hair.

"_Darkness, imprisoning me, all that I see, absolute horror, I cannot live, I cannot die, trapped in myself, body my holding cell!"_ Dean sang along to the radio, drumming on the steering wheel. Looking over at his son, he noticed that Harry seemed content, eyes closed, leaning back in his seat, then he saw the earbuds.

"Hey," Harry complained as Dean pulled out one of the earbuds and put it to his own ear.

"What the hell are you listening to," Dean asked as Harry pulled back the earbud.

"It's Concrete Angel by Martina Mcbride," he answered, giving his father an irritated look.

"You need to stop spending so much time with your Uncle Sam," Dean sighed looking back at the road. Harry grinned, putting the earbud back in place and leaning back in his seat.

At the motel the four Winchesters congregated in one room going over a map of the area.

"As far as I can see there are four buildings that it could be hiding in," John told his sons and grandson.

"So, do we split up or stay together?" Sam asked looking around the table.

"We stay together, we're stronger as a family," Dean answered.

The four hunters entered the building's basement shinning flashlights in all directions, the last two buildings had produced nothing to show that the rawhead was living there. Each of the Winchesters were armed with tasers, Dean explained to Harry that he only had one shot with it so he needed to make it count.

"How...," Harry was about to say when Dean clamped a hand over his mouth, Harry got the message and didn't say anymore.

John motioned for his family to spread out, with Dean and Sam at each end, keeping a close eye on Harry, the Winchesters advanced weapons at the ready. Hearing a noise like something falling over on Dean's end, they turned in that direction, Sam protecting their rear.

The rawhead suddenly slammed into Sam sending him crashing into the wall, Harry turned to see the creature bonding towards his grandfather as John took up a defensive posture in front of his grandson. John fired his taser, sending 100,000 volts of electricity threw the rawhide.

"Hit 'em Harry now!" John yelled as Dean and Sam both discharged their weapons, putting the creature into convulsions, Harry fired his taser making the creature roar in pain, falling to the ground dead, the creature smelled like burning flesh.

Sighing, John looked over at Sam, "you alright, son?" he asked, giving his family a once over.

"You o.k.?" Dean asked Harry putting a hand on his son's back.

"Ya, I'm sorry dad, I hesitated," Harry said handing the taser over to Dean.

"You did good, son, I'm proud of you," Dean gave Harry a pat on the back, "come on you need to use that pooping feather duster of your's to check the place out."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Mr. Smith, Harry has been in three fights already this school year, I will not tolerate this type of behavior," Principal Bos explained to Dean.

"Those boys were bullies, as far as I'm concerned my son was defending himself," Dean spat back out.

"If Harry was getting bullied why didn't he come to me or a teacher?" Principal Bos asked sitting back in his chair.

"Principal Bos, Harry did come to you, if you remember right, it only made things worse," Sam explained.

"Your nephew is very violent, Mr. Smith, he knocked out two of this boys teeth," looking back at Dean the principal sighed, "I'm suspending Harry until you get him some therapy."

"Well, I'm taking him out of this school, I'm not going to allow my son to be punished just for sticking up for himself," Dean said storming out of the office.

"Dean...," Sam tried watching his older brother slam the office door, "I'm sorry, Principal Bos, I'll talk to my brother and nephew."

"Come on," Dean motioned for Harry to follow him out of the school.

Harry sat in the backseat of the Impala, arms folded looking out the window with a scowl on his face. Sam reached back turning his nephew's head to look at the bruise on his cheek.

"I'm fine, Uncle Sam," Harry said brushing Sam's hand away turning back towards the window.

"I'm not mad at you, Harry, I'm pissed off at that ass of a principal, I bet that other kid got an award for being a dick," Dean told his son, looking in the mirror at him.

"So how long am I suspended for this time," Harry asked not really wanting to hear the answer.

"You're not, I'm taking you out of that school as of now, we can figure something out," Dean answered.

"You know there are online schools nowadays, we can look into that if you two want to," Sam told his older brother and nephew.

"I'm sorry for putting you threw this, dad, Uncle Sam," Harry apologized casting his eyes to the Impala's floor boards.

"It's o.k. son, nobody's blaming you," Dean answered, "did you really knock that kids teeth out?"

"Ya, you should have seen the look on football coach's face when his star player got dropped by the smallest kid in the class," Harry grinned making his father and uncle laugh.

Online schooling was much easier on Harry, not that the curriculum was easier just the fact that he didn't have to deal with the dicks that didn't want to learn. In school he had been placed in classes that were below remedial. Which ment all the trouble makers, pot smokers and class clowns were in them. As for learning magic, Hermione had been sending Harry books and supplies allowing the young wizard to learn new spells and potions. His father however made him practice these things outside with an extinguisher handy, after he set one of the library tables on fire.

Doing his daily routine Harry stopped at his two mile point to stretch out before heading back towards the bunker. He heard a movement behind a nearby tree, reaching up his sleeve wrapping his hand around one of the silver knives he called out.

"Is anyone there?" when there was no answer, Harry tried again, "is anyone there?"

"Do you know me boy?" a man said stepping out from behind the tree holding a gun pointed at Harry.

"No, who are you," Harry said defiantly slowly pulling out a silver knife.

"You knew my brother boy, you helped your family kill him, you drove a knife right in his back."

"Your brother was a shapeshifter, a monster, he deserved to die," Harry spat out.

"So what, he may have stolen, but he never hurt anyone," the man explained.

Harry had never thought of it that way, it was true, that shapeshifter never did kill anyone that they knew about. He had been so proud of himself for finding the hunt that it never occurred to him nobody had been killed during the burglaries.

"You're right, but you need to understand he had a knife on my father, I had to protect my own family."

"He was protecting himself!" the man yelled angrily, the gun shook in his hand as he raised it towards Harry.

Suddenly a large black dog came out of the nearby bushes grabbing onto the man's forearm making the gun go off. Harry felt something wet under his shirt, ingoring the pain in his side, he threw his knife as his father had taught him. It hit it's mark, burying into the man's throat, he grabbed at the hilt trying in vein to pull it out as he gurgled his last breath before falling over dead.

Harry looked down at his side, pulling up his sweat shirt he saw the still smoking hole. He collapsed to knees pulling out his cell phone he dialed his father.

Dean picked up on the second ring, annoyed at being woken up so early in the morning, "this better be good, Harry."

"Dad, I've been shot, I'm on the trail," Dean jumped up immediately, still dressed from the night before, he ran out of the bedroom door, yelling for Sam.

"What's the matter?" both Sam and John came out of their rooms guns raised looking at one another.

"Harry's been shot, he said he's on the trail!" Dean yelled running towards the garage.

"Go!" John ordered his middle child.

Sam took off after his older brother jumping in the Impala, John came out to the garage watching his former car race out the large door.

"Please God, let my grandson be alright," he prayed.

Dean raced down the dirt trail, "there!" Sam yelled pointing at his nephew laying on his side while a black dog stood watch over him, the dog saw the Impala roaring towards it and turned tail running away.

Dean slammed on the brakes, sending the Impala skidding to a stop, the brothers jumped out, Dean heading straight for Harry while Sam, gun raised headed towards the man's body.

"He's dead," Sam announced, kicking the body over and feeling for a pulse.

"Dad?" Harry weakly asked opening his eyes looking up at Dean.

"I'm here baby, I'm right here," Dean said taking his son in his arms, picking him up he ran towards the backseat of the Impala, Sam opened the backdoor closing it after his brother entered with Harry in his arms.

Sam threw the Impala in reverse slamming on gas he turned the old muscle car around, throwing it back into drive he floored the gas heading straight for the hospital.

"How is he, Dean?" Sam asked not looking away from the road.

Dean tried to lift up Harry's shirt to see how bad it was, Harry pushed his father's hand away.

"I have to see how bad it is, son," he explained to Harry.

This time Harry didn't resist, Dean lifted the boy's shirt and saw the bullet wound, it was a through and through, the bullet had gone straight through his son's left side. Dean put pressure on the wound, putting his son's head against his chest, rocking him gently.

"It's not that bad, son, you'll be fine," Dean kept saying.

The old muscle car came to a screeching halt in front of the emergency entrance of Smith County Memorial Hospital. Sam got out opening the door for Dean carrying Harry, running into the hospital he started calling for help.

"I need help over here, my son's been shot!" several nurses and E.R. doctors came running over, taking Harry from Dean, they put him on a gurney. Dean watched feeling helpless as they wheeled his son away. Looking at the blood on his hands, he felt Sam's arm around his shoulder leading him towards the waiting room. John and Adam showed up a few minutes later sitting down with the rest of the family.

"Mr. Angus?" a doctor asked walking into the waiting room.

"How's my son?" Dean asked jumping up at the name.

"He's going to be fine, he's lost a lot of blood, but the bullet missed any arteries or organs," a sigh of relief went over the Winchester family.

Dean wiped the tears quickly from his eyes, "can we see him?"

"Sure, but it'll have to be brief, he's very weak and he's going to need his rest," the doctor answered smiling.

The nurse led them to Harry's room where the boy lay asleep, the family walked in with worried looks on their faces until Harry turned his head, eyes barely open.

"How are you feeling, son?" Dean said smiling, taking Harry's hand.

"I've been shot, dad, how do you expect me to feel," Harry said in a raspy voice.

"Here, take a drink," Adam suggested picking up a cup of ice water, placing the straw in his nephew's mouth.

"Thanks, did you find the shapeshifter, the one I stabbed, he said that he was the brother of the one we killed in the sewer," Harry explained looking towards the closed door.

"Dad and I will take care of it, don't worry," Sam told him.

"Uncle Sam, there was a black dog, it saved my life," Harry said giving his father a puppy dog look.

Dean sighed, running his hand through his son's thick hair, "if Sammy finds it you can keep it."

John and Sam headed back to the spot where Harry was attacked, John knelt down to inspect the body, he pulled his grandson's knife out of it.

"Sam," John said still looking at the body.

"What is it, dad?"

"This is no shapeshifter, son, he's human," John explained standing up.

"What do we tell Harry?" Sam asked.

"We tell him the truth, he was defending himself, human or not he would have killed him if he could have," John answered.

"I don't get it, he said he was his brother how is it that he's not a shapeshifter?" Sam asked.

"Half-brother maybe." John answered.

"How is he, how is the pup?" a voice said behind Sam.

The two Winchesters spun around guns raised, the man that had spoken raised his own hands in surrender.

"I mean you no harm, my name is Sirius Black, I'm Harry Potter's Godfather."


End file.
